To Work - To Work! It Is

Why! Why! Why Is The Middle-class So Stodgy - So Utterly Without A Sense Of Humor?

What Can You Do If You Are Thirty And, Turning The Corner Of Your Own Street, You Are Overcome, Suddenly, By A Feeling Of Bliss - Absolute Bliss - As Though You'd Suddenly Swallowed A Bright Piece Of That Late Afternoon Sun And It Burned In Your Bosom, Sending Out A Little Shower Of Sparks Into Every Particle Into Every Finger And Toe?

Oh, How Quickly Things Changed! Why Didn't Happiness Last For Ever? For Ever Wasn't A Bit Too Long.

I Don't Believe Other People Are Ever As Foolishly Excited As I Am While I'm Working. How Could They Be? Writers Would Have To Live In Trees.

When I Say "i Fear" - Don't Let It Disturb You, Dearest Heart. We All Fear When We Are In Waiting-rooms. Yet We Must Pass Beyond Them, And If The Other Can Keep Calm, It Is All The Help We Can Give Each Other.