Oh Courage...oh Yes! If Only One Had

In Your Power, All The Same. Subject To Your Will And Your Demands. No Longer Free! No! That's A Thought I'll Never Endure! Never.

You Have Never Loved Me. You Have Only Thought It Pleasant To Be In Love With Me.

Oh Courage...oh Yes! If Only One Had That...then Life Might Be Livable, In Spite Of Everything.

But I Almost Think We Are All Of Us Ghosts. It Is Not Only What We Have Inherited From Our Father And Mother That “walks” In Us. It Is All Sorts Of Dead Ideas, And Lifeless Old Beliefs, And So Forth. They Have No Vitality, But They Cling To Us All The Same, And We Cannot Shake Them Off. Whenever I Take Up A Newspaper, I Seem To See Ghosts Gliding Between The Lines.

Most Critical Fault-finding, When Reduced To Its Essentials, Simply Amounts To Reproach Of The Author Because He Is Himself -- Thinks, Feels, Sees, And Creates, As Himself, Instead Of Seeing And Creating In The Way The Critic Would Have Done.