That Is Not It At All, That

Gin And Drugs, Dear Lady, Gin And Drugs.

That Is The Worst Moment, When You Feel You Have Lost / The Desires For All That Was Most Desirable, / Before You Are Contented With What You Can Desire; / Before You Know What Is Left To Be Desired; / And You Go On Wishing That You Could Desire / What Desire Has Left Behind.

What Profession Is More Trying Than That Of Author? After You Finish A Piece Of Work It Only Seems Good To You For A Few Weeks; Or If It Seems Good At All You Are Convinced That It Is The Last You Will Be Able To Write; And If It Seems Bad You Wonder Whether Everything You Have Done Isn’t Poor Stuff Really; And It Is One Kind Of Agony While You Are Writing, And Another Kind When You Aren’t.

Turning Wearily, As One Would Turn To Nod Goodbye To Rochefoucauld, If The Street Were Time And He As The End Of The Street.

A Good Half Of The Effort Of Understanding What The Indian Philosophers Were After - And Their Subtleties Make Most Of The Great European Philosophers Look Like Schoolboys.