There are moments when the body is as numinous as words, days that are the good flesh continuing. Such tenderness, those afternoons and evenings, saying blackberry, blackberry, blackberry.

The body is the soul's poor house or home, whose ribs the laths are and whose flesh the loam.

I am proud only of those days that pass in
undivided tenderness.

But if this is the tip of the iceberg, in other words, if there are more moments in debates or other interviews, where he seems not to have a grasp, sure, that could be a major problem, ... But that will depend on whether this sort of thing ... resonates with voters. It may not, this may be a media flap, it may be a one-day story.

The Earth forgives the previous year every year.

In California in the early Spring, There are pale yellow mornings, when the mist burns slowly into day, The air stings like Autumn, clarifies like pain - Well, I have dreamed this coast myself.