How Easy It Was To Lie When

He Loved Possessions, Not Masses Of Them, But A Select Few That He Did Not Part With.they Gave A Man Self-respect. Not Ostentation But Quality, And The Love That Cherished The Quality. Possessions Reminded Him That He Existed, And Made Him Enjoy His Existence. It Was As Simple As That. And Wasn' T That Worth Something? He Existed.

One Blow In Anger [would] Kill, Probably, A Child From Aged Two To Eight. Those Over Eight Would Take Two Blows To Kill.

But There Was Not A Moment When She Did Not See Carol In Her Mind, And All She Saw, She Seemed To See Through Carol. That Evening, The Dark Flat Streets Of New York, The Tomorrow Of Work, The Milk Bottle Dropped And Broken In Her Sink, Became Unimportant. She Flung Herself On Her Bed And Drew A Line With A Pencil On A Piece Of Paper. And Another Line, Carefully, And Another. A World Was Born Around Her, Like A Bright Forest With A Million Shimmering Leaves.

How Was It Possible To Be Afraid And In Love... The Two Things Did Not Go Together. How Was It Possible To Be Afraid, When The Two Of Them Grew Stronger Together Every Day? And Every Night. Every Night Was Different, And Every Morning. Together They Possessed A Miracle.

Each Book Is, In A Sense, An Argument With Myself, And I Would Write It, Whether It Is Ever Published Or Not.