A pile of sand beneath a pile of people.
It is a voice that cuts you like a razor, but you can still hear the innocence in it, a claim to purity that soars out of the garbage of her throat, carrying evil harmonies.
Janis Joplin has one of the most distinguished female voices of the decade. It is a voice that has been aged in Southern Comfort and cured with Kahlua and milk.
Reached only by boat, seaplane and, with less surety, telephone-this is Fire Island.
George Harrison is one of the sweetest, kindest and most considerate men I know.