We Are Citizens Of Eternity.

I Love The Sticky Leaves In Spring, The Blue Sky — That’s All It Is. It’s Not A Matter Of Intellect Or Logic, It’s Loving With One’s Inside, With One’s Stomach.

For All Is Like An Ocean, All Flows And Connects; Touch It In One Place And It Echoes At The Other End Of The World.

My God, A Moment Of Bliss. Why, Isn't That Enough For A Whole Lifetime?

That's Always The Way With Fanatics; They Cross Themselves At The Tavern And Throw Stones At The Temple.

. . . Finally, I Couldn't Imagine How I Could Live Without Books, And I Stopped Dreaming About Marrying That Chinese Prince. . . .