I can offer very little in the way of context when it comes to the following letter, however I'm not sure much is needed. What I do know is that it was written in the late-1960s by Frank Sinatra, and given to his daughter, Nancy.
(Source: Frank Sinatra: An American Legend, via Jeremy; Image: Frank & Nancy, via .)
from the desk of
Chicken — a thought.
Strange, but I feel the world we live in demands that we be turned out in a pattern which resembles, in fact, is a facsimile of itself. And those of us who roll with the punches, who grin, who dare to wear foolish clown faces, who defy the system — well, we do it, and bully for us!
Of course, there are those who do not. And the reason I think is that, (and I say this with some sadness) those up-tight, locked in people who resent and despise us, who fear us, and are bewildered by us, will one day come to realize that we possess rare and magical secrets, and more — love.
Therefore, I am beginning to think that a few, (I hope many) are wondering if maybe there might be value to a firefly, or an instant-long roman candle.
Keep the faith