" Few people even scratch the surface, much less exhaust the contemplation of their own experience." - Randolph Bourne. Through our study of history, we are made aware that America has just scratched the surface of its potential, through its literature we contemplate its depth. We ponder the haunting words with which Poe describes his undying love and loss and we feel it. We consider the loyalties of both Lincoln and Lee and understand perspective. We contemplate our own judgement and misunderstandings through the works of Hawthorne and Miller. We carefully consider the obstacles overcome by...

From the introduction: Given these words of Hemingway, we sit at our keyboard before a blank screen expecting to hemorrhage some profound truth. But nothing comes and we are vastly disappointed or frustrated at our inability to write a single word or phrase. We hear the clock ticking or our phone vibrate and we curse Hemingway for his deceit. We are done. But we are not done with the staccato rhythm of Hemingway, "The cold rain kept on and killed the spring." We read the harsh tone of Hawthorne's prose, "What other dungeon is so dark as one's own heart." We ponder the mood of terror painted...