From Book Sixty:

“It is warmer outside than inside, a perfect day in early autumn. As I drove along Beach Ave to the Roberts Creek General Store to get cream for my morning coffee, a slight breeze — no more than a hand on the shoulder of the wind — let fall a few yellow leaves from a tree growing in front of a spectacular red maple. The leaves caught the light of the late afternoon sun and all spiraled on the way down. It was a small moment of balance in the day and if I were the type of person to record such moments I would make certain that I wrote it down.”

Also from Book Sixty:

“Without premeditation and in an indifferent light we set to work at one corner of an immense canvas upon which as it stretches into darkness, we are to weave with so little skill the tapestry of our lives. The picture will never be finished and is marred by many confused, threadbare, or mutilated passages, but at last and from a certain distance a pattern will emerge which though not of our designing is the Key and Signature of Personality.

— Augustus John Fragment of an Autobiography”