To be altered by the Yale Summer High School is an experience which one cannot relate to others without failing miserably... Only those who were there know, know, know. And so you have created a small band of elitists, lonely elitists, who share that bond. But sires, in the process you've committed a grave but unavoidable sin—leaving us so terribly vulnerable, so very sensitive, so increasingly expectant, in the face of the world outside. And so I keep grasping for that summer, wishing the winter would fall away. O' if all could be touched again that's lost, once again, gone...
Until the future.
- Michael Wishna