There are tens of millions of people living in America that are benighted to the point that their mere existence in large numbers degrades our wellbeing and makes life harder for real Americans that want to add value.
A cocktail is best enjoyed on the shore of a noiseless pond as the little forest of bur oaks begins to go bronze.
The empty ashtrays in the armrests of chairs in college classrooms are there to let you know that you are ruled by a Committee of Karens.
Post-modernism is the ghettoization of the mind.
The Good Life is the absence of the ill-intentioned.
The tender stillness of the evening is spiritual tonic.
A decanter opaque with wine September’s milky horizon A stack of novels on the grass The salad days are now
“There is no such thing as objective good or evil”, mused the objectively sophomoric mind.
You can spot the ones that have been lobotomized by the round-the-clock brain zaps of social media just moments after they begin speaking.
I’m trying to think of a more evil idea than “Violence is never the answer”. I’ll probably be here for a while.