“It was one of those winter days in Los Angeles when the wind has swept away the smog and the air is clear and the light still and everything has the immediacy of a dream. I parked on a street called Overland in the Hollywood Hills. It was lined with white-skinned birch trees. Their nude branches shimmered against the sky. Tattered yellow leaves clogged the gutters and the air was scented with the rainy smell of eucalyptus. There were no cars on the street and the houses were barely visible behind walls and fences and sweeping lawns that had never been trod upon except by gardeners.”

“When trees burn, they leave the smell of heartbreak in the air.”

“Bob Crosby: That's like keeping the smog and throwing away Los Angeles.”

“How sweet the air does smell — even the air of a back-street in the suburbs — after the shut-in, subfaecal stench of the spike!”

“We drove into the Los Angeles Black Belt, Central Avenue, night clubs, abandoned apartment houses, broken-down business houses, the forlorn street of poverty for the Negro and swank for the whites.”

“a wind has blown the rain away & the sky away & all the leaves away, & the trees stand. i think i, too, have known autumn too long.”

“Like any other day, Kausani with every passing minute emerged out of the darkness, tree by tree, house by house, street by street.”

“The time has come and fall has come so pretty…
The yellow leaves are flying over the city…
I am in love with you.
Your golden hair is flying so clear in the air.
I am in love with fall, which came with rain…
It brought the morning mists…
The days are waned…
I know the wintry wind will break her gown.
I say to fall: come back, don’t let me down.
The yellow leaves are whirling in the city.
I’ve met my love too late, it is a pity.
At last we are together and forever.
I know well that better late than never.
The time has come and fall has come so pretty…
The yellow leaves as dreams adorned the city…
I am in love with you.
Your golden hair is flying as a cobweb in the air…”

“So many words get lost. They leave the mouthand lose their courage, wandering aimlessly until they are swept into the gutter like dead leaves. On rainy days you can hear their chorus rushing past.”

“Man, air, trees, world are laid bare and are one!”