Boredom Provides A Stronger Inclination To Write

What Is The Difference Between My Life And My Love? One Gets Me Low, The Other Lets Me Go.

I Recall Drinking Sherry In California And Dreaming Of England, Where I Ate Dalmoth And Dreamed Of Delhi. What Is The Purpose, I Wonder, Of All This Restlessness? I Sometimes Seem To Myself To Wander Around The World Merely Accumulating Material For Future Nostalgias.

I Simply Seem To Drift. But I Sort Of Allow The Drift, Because It Has A Kind Of Check - It Forces Me To Work Harder At What I'm Interested In.

In Spite Of All Temptations Of Belonging To Many Nations, I've Remained An Indian.

To Not Be Able To Love The One You Love Is To Have Your Life Wrenched Away.