It Is A Hell Of A Thing

Never Think That War, No Matter How Necessary, Nor How Justified, Is Not A Crime.

I've Seen You, Beauty, And You Belong To Me Now, Whoever You Are Waiting For And If I Never See You Again, I Thought. You Belong To Me And All Paris Belongs To Me And I Belong To This Notebook And This Pencil.

Having Books Published Is Very Destructive To Writing. It Is Even Worse Than Making Love Too Much. Because When You Make Love Too Much At Least You Get A Damned Clarte That Is Like No Other Light. A Very Clear And Hollow Light.

A Continent Ages Quickly Once We Come. The Natives Live In Harmony With It. But The Foreigner Destroys, Cuts Down The Trees, Drains The Water, So That The Water Supply Is Altered, And In A Short Time The Soil, Once The Sod Is Turned Under, Is Cropped Out And, Next, It Starts To Blow Away As It Has Blown Away In Every Old Country And As I Had Seen It Start To Blow In Canada. The Earth Gets Tired Of Being Exploited.

But You Always Fall For Somebody Else And Then It's All Right. Fall For Them But Don't Let Them Ruin You.