Fail, Fail Again, Fail Better.

Life Is Habit. Or Rather Life Is A Succession Of Habits.

I Marshalled The Words And Opened My Mouth, Thinking I Would Hear Them. But All I Heard Was A Kind Of Rattle, Unintelligible Even To Me Who Knew What Was Intended.

Silence, Yes, But What Silence! For It Is All Very Fine To Keep Silence, But One Has Also To Consider The Kind Of Silence One Keeps.

I Have Nothing But Wastes And Wilds Of Self-translation Before Me For Many Miserable Months To Come.

The Sky Sinks In The Morning, This Fact Has Been Insufficiently Observed.