The World Is Like A Little Marsh

Well, If I Am Not Vulgar, Neither Is My Book. I Wrote Myself. Suggestiveness Is Always Vulgar. But Truth Never. My Book Is Not Even Remotely Suggestive. I Call Things By Their Names. That Is All.

The World Is Like A Little Marsh Filled With Mint And White Hawthorn.

I Am Lithe, But Fragile From Constant Involuntary Self-analysis.

I Never Give My Real Self. I Have A Hundred Sides, And I Turn First One Way And Then The Other. I Am Playing A Deep Game. I Have A Number Of Strong Cards Up My Sleeve. I Have Never Been Myself, Excepting To Two Friends.

My Intention To Lecture Is As Vague As My Intention Is To Go On The Stage. I Will Never Consider An Offer To Lecture, Not Because I Despise The Vocation, But Because I Have No Desire To Appear On The Public Rostrum.