A Pretty Sight, A Lady With A

The Idea Of A Series Of Items, Following One Another Docilely, Forms The Only Possible Reasonable Approach To Life If You Have To Live It With A Home And A Husband And Children, None Of Whom Would Dream Of Following One Another Docilely.

All I Could Think Of When I Got A Look At The Place From The Outside Was What Fun It Would Be To Stand Out There And Watch It Burn Down.

[l]et My Reader Who Is Puzzled By My Awkward Explanations Close His Eyes For No More Than Two Minutes, And See If He Does Not Find Himself Suddenly Not A Compact Human Being At All, But Only A Consciousness On A Sea Of Sound And Touch . . .

It Was One Of Those Winter Days That Suddenly Dream Of Spring, When The Sky Is Blue And Soft And Clear, And The Wind Has Dropped Its Voice And Whispers Instead Of Screaming, And The Sun Is Out And The Trees Look Surprised, And Over Everything There Is The Faintest, Palest Tint Of Green.

I'm Going To Put Death In All Their Food And Watch Them Die.