"I don't know which is more discouraging, literature or chickens."
(a conversation between theric and e.b.white))


I'm warming up my interviewing skills for a few things I'm lining up for A Motley Vision.


Th: Well, let's start with the big questions, shall we? How about the state of the world, eh?

EB: I would feel more optimistic about a bright future for man if he spent less time proving that he can outwit Nature and more time tasting her sweetness and respecting her seniority.

Th: That's probably true, I suppose. I do try to turn my lights off more and I did get out to Point Reyes last week. That's some impressive nature out there. But now that we got all the Earth Day junk out of the way, let's get to writing. I have to say you've put out some good things in your time.

EB: It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer.

Th: The feeling's mutual, I assure you. Next thing you know we'll be exchanging Christmas cards.

EB: To perceive Christmas through its wrappings becomes more difficult with every year.

Th: True, true. So how can we arrange our lives to see through those wrappings, to find our joys?

EB: We should all do what, in the long run, gives us joy, even if it is only picking grapes or sorting the laundry.

Th: And for you, it's stringing words in a row.

EB: Writing is an act of faith, not a trick of grammar.

Th: Well, yeah. I was just ---

EB: Writing is hard work and bad for the health.

Th: I'm not disagreeing with you here. I was just --- hang on, are you messing with me?

EB: Whatever else an American believes or disbelieves about himself, he is absolutely sure he has a sense of humor.

Th: Touché.


Well, that's all we have time for this week, folks! But we'll have to do this again real soon!

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