Before I Could Read, Almost A Baby,

Of Course She Had Some Pathetic Illusions About Herself Or She Would Not Be Able To Go On Living.

If I Was Bound For Hell, Let It Be Hell. No More False Heaven. No More Damned Magic.

You Imagine The Carefully Pruned, Shaped Thing That Is Presented To You Is Truth. That Is Just What It Isn't. The Truth Is Improbable, The Truth Is Fantastic; It's In What You Think Is A Distorting Mirror That You See The Truth.

There Is No Doubt That Running Away On A Fresh, Blue Morning Can Be Exhilarating.

Life If Curious When Reduced To Its Essentials