Art Is A Statement Of One In

In Some Mysterious Way Woods Have Never Seemed To Me To Be Static Things. In Physical Terms, I Move Through Them; Yet In Metaphysical Ones, They Seem To Move Through Me.

My Hatred Of Crowds, The Obviousness Of Crowds, Of Anything En Masse. Is This Why I Like Little-known Books? A General Desire To Escape The Main World.

Wealth Is A Monster. It Takes A Month To Learn To Control It Financially. And Many Years To Learn To Control It Psychologically.

The Diary Will Really Try And Tell People Who You Are And What You Were. The Alternative Is Writing Nothing, Or Creating A Totally Lifeless, As It Is Leafless, Garden.

Evolution Did Not Intend Trees To Grow Singly. Far More Than Ourselves They Are Social Creatures, And No More Natural As Isolated Specimens Than Man Is As A Marooned Sailor Or Hermit.