In Masturbation There Is Nothing But Loss.

Pure Morality Is Only An Instinctive Adjustment Which The Soul Makes.

The Acrid Scents Of Autumn, Reminiscent Of Slinking Beasts, Make Me Fear

The Spirit Of Place [does Not] Exert Its Full Influence Upon A Newcomer Until The Old Inhabitant Is Dead Or Absorbed. So America.... The Moment The Last Nuclei Of Red [indian] Life Break Up In America, Then The White Men Will Have To Reckon With The Full Force Of The Demon Of The Continent.

One's Action Ought To Come Out Of An Achieved Stillness: Not To Be A Mere Rushing On.

I Would Like [the Working Man] To Give Me Back Books And Newspapers And Theories. And I Would Like To Give Him Back, In Return, His Old Insouciance, And Rich, Original Spontaneity And Fullness Of Life.