I Really Only Have Perfect Fun With

Perhaps It Does Not Matter So Very Much What It Is One Loves In This World. But Love Something One Must.

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.

The Mind I Love Must Have Wild Places.

I Always Felt That The Great High Privilege, Relief And Comfort Of Friendship Was That One Had To Explain Nothing.

Once We Have Learned To Read, Meaning Of Words Can Somehow Register Without Consciousness.