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Saturday, October 20, 2012


Gerard Manley Hopkins visited me this morning. We admired the yellow leaves hung with raindrops. I wrote him a poem.


Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.