Exhaust The Little Moment. Soon It Dies.

I Think It Must Be Lonely To Be God. Nobody Loves A Master. No.

I Am A Writer Perhaps Because I Am Not A Talker. It Has Always Been Hard For Me To Say Exactly What I Mean In Speech But If I Have Written A Clumsiness, I May Erase It.

To Be In Love Is To Touch Things With A Lighter Hand. In Yourself You Stretch, You Are Well.

People Like Definite Decisions, / Tidy Answers, All The Little Ravelings / Snipped Off, The Lint Removed, They / Hop Happily Among Their Roughs / Calling What They Can't Clutch Insanity / Or Saintliness.

She Was Afraid To Suggest To Him That To Most People, Nothing "happens." That Most People Merely Live From Day To Day Until They Die. That, After He Had Been Dead A Year, Doubtless Fewer Than Five People Would Think Of Him Oftener Than Once A Year. That There Might Even Come A Year When No One On Earth Would Think Of Him At All.