I Am Myself. That Is Not Enough.

Love Is The Bone And Sinew Of My Curse.

And What Is Happy? It Is A Going Always On. There Is Something Better To Be Done Than I Have Done, And Spurred By The Fair Delusion Of Progress, I Will Seek To Progress, To Whip Myself On, To More And More- To Learning. Always.

I Cut You Out Because I Couldn't Stand Being A Passing Fancy.

I Had Hoped, At My Departure, I Would Feel Sure And Knowledgeable About Everything That Lay Ahead -- After All, I Had Been "analyzed." Instead, All I Could See Were Question Marks.

If Only A Group Of People Were More Important To Me Than The Idea Of A Novel, I Might Begin A Novel.