Every Time One Leaves Anywhere, Something Precious,

September Is Different From All Other Months. It Is More Magical. I Feel The Strange Chemical Change In The Earth Which Produces Mushrooms Is The Cause, Too, Of The Extra 'life' In The Air - A Resilience, A Sparkle.

There Does Seem To Me Something Sad In Life. It Is Hard To Say What It Is. I Don't Mean The Sorrow That We All Know, Like Illness And Poverty And Death. No, It Is Something Different. It Is There, Deep Down, Deep Down, Part Of One, Like One's Breathing.

Make It A Rule Of Life Never To Regret And Never To Look Back.

In The Shortest Sea Voyage There Is No Sense Of Time. You Have Been Down In The Cabin For Hours Or Days Or Years. Nobody Knows Or Cares. You Know All The People To The Point Of Indifference. You Do Not Believe In Dry Land Any More - You Are Caught In The Pendulum Itself, And Left There, Idly Swinging.

To Long For Everything: Sorrow; To Accept Everything: Joy.