Self-love Is An Idolatry. Self-hatred Is A

While You Are Living, Part Of You Has Slipped Away To The Cemetery.

Flattery Is A Challenge. The Proper Turning Away From It, Undercutting, Diminishing It Without Offense Or Vehemence, Is A Social Grace Sweeter Even Than The Swift Determination To Keep Ahead In The Race Of Hospitality.

Biology Is Destiny Only For Girls.

Writing Is Not "the Establishment Of A Professional Reputation" As If One Were A Doctor Or Lawyer; It Is Not Properly In The Sentence With Creation Of A Family And The Purchase Of A Home.

The Language Of The Younger Generation Has The Brutality Of The City And An Assertion Of Threatening Power At Hand, Not To Come. It Is Military, Theatrical, And At Its Most Coherent Probably A Lasting Repudiation Of Empty Courtesy And Bureaucratic Euphemism.