James Richardson, click for his home page.
In reference to recent news, a related aphorism from James Richardson:
When she was little her face rose up before me, reading, driving. Even now I cannot have her out of my sight for thirty seconds in a supermarket. But she will leave home, and there will be whole days I hardly think of her. Between this beginning and that ending is a story I cannot admit I am being told. Com- pared to it, what is the failure of my work, out language, the planet?
This is from Vectors: Aphorisms and Ten-second Essays, a book I cannot recommend enough. That and
Reservations.