One Can Get Just As Much Exultation

War Is A Thug's Game. The Thug Strikes First And Harder. He Doesn't Go By Rules And He Isn't Afraid Of Hurting People.

The Signs That Presage Growth, So Similar, It Seems To Me, To Those In Early Adolescence: Discontent, Restlessness, Doubt, Despair, Longing, Are Interpreted Falsely As Signs Of Decay. In Youth One Does Not As Often Misinterpret The Signs; One Accepts Them, Quite Rightly, As Growing Pains. One Takes Them Seriously, Listens To Them, Follows Where They Lead. ... But In The Middle Age, Because Of The False Assumption That It Is A Period Of Decline, One Interprets These Life-signs, Paradoxically, As Signs Of Approaching Death.

Men Kick Friendship Around Like A Football, But It Doesn't Seem To Crack. Women Treat It Like Glass And It Goes To Pieces.

It Is Only Framed In Space That Beauty Blooms; Only In Space Are Events, And Objects And People Unique And Significant And Therefore Beautiful.

Woman's Normal Occupations In General Run Counter To Creative Life, Or Contemplative Life, Or Saintly Life.