America Has Enjoyed The Doubtful Blessing Of

There Is A Terrible Loneliness In The Spring.

When This Immediate Evil Power Has Been Defeated, We Shall Not Yet Have Won The Long Battle With The Elemental Barbarities. Another Hitler, It May Be An Invisible Adversary, Will Attempt, Again, And Yet Again, To Destroy Our Frail Civilization. Is It True, I Wonder, That The Only Way To Escape A War Is To Be In It? When One Is A Part Of An Actuality Does The Imagination Find A Release?

As Far Back As I Remember, Long Before I Could Write, I Had Played At Making Stories. But Not Until I Was Seven Or More, Did I Begin To Pray Every Night, "o God, Let Me Write Books! Please, God, Let Me Write Books!"

I Don't Like Human Nature, But I Do Like Human Beings.

The Transcendental Point Of View, The Habit Of Thought Bred By Communion With Earth And Sky, Had Refined The Grain While It Had Roughened The Husk.