My dear, Don’t use the phone. People are never ready to answer it. Use poetry. Take pen and paper, and scribble words so utterly moving that whosoever reads them believes that the world is shaking and that, somewhere, mountains are crumbling. Write your ideas down. If they so take a hundred pages or more let them. Then condense them down to a few simple words. Let each of those words be like a shotgun; Let each hit the reader as if...

My dear, Some people screamed that the world was not flat and not the center of attention. The world laughed. Some people said that humans could fly in the skies above. The world ridiculed. Some people whispered that computers would one day be in everyone’s household. The world snickered. Look where we are now. Great things are not accomplished by those who yield to trends and fads and popular opinion. Falsely yours, Jean-Louis...

My dear, I want to change the world with the right words. I want to confess my love to you with the right words. I want to nurture a life with the right words. I have the right ideas, but my words are too… complicated. I need to simplify them, so that people won’t get lost in the dark when they see and hear them. I want them to shine like beacons of light in a world of overly complicated darkness. One day I will find the right...

My dear, Yesterday, I shambled after as I’ve been doing all my life after people who interest me. Because? Because… The ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!” …And so I shambled after. Falsely yours, Jean-Louis...