Thanks Be To God We Lived So

By His Monstrous Way Of Life He Seemed To Have Put Himself Beyond The Limits Of Reality. Nothing Moved Him Or Spoke To Him From The Real World Unless He Heard It In An Echo Of The Infuriated Cries Within Him.

I Am Not Likely To Die Of Bashfulness But Neither Am I Prepared To Be Crucified To Attest The Perfection Of My Art. I Dislike To Hear Of Any Stray Heroics On The Prowl For Me.

I Wanted Real Adventures To Happen To Myself. But Real Adventures, I Reflected, Do Not Happen To People Who Remain At Home: They Must Be Sought Abroad.

There Is An Atmosphere Of Spiritual Effort Here. No Other City Is Quite Like It. I Wake Early, Often At 5 O'clock, And Start Writing At Once.

I Did Not Know Whether I Would Ever Speak To Her Or Not Or, If I Spoke To Her, How I Could Tell Her Of My Confused Adoration. But My Body Was Like A Harp And Her Words And Gestures Were Like Fingers Running Upon The Wires.