Being, Not Doing, Is My First Joy.

I Always Felt Mean, Jogging Back Over The Logging Road,as If I Had Broken The Natural Order Of Things In That Swampland;disturbed Some Rhythm, Old And Of Vast Importance,by Pulling Off Flesh From The Living Planet;as If I Had Committed, Against The Whole Scheme Of Life, A Desecration.

So Much Of Adolescence Is An Ill-defined Dying, An Intolerable Waiting, A Longing For Another Place And Time, Another Condition.

A Too Explicit Elucidation In Education Destroys Much Of The Pleasure Of Learning. There Should Be Room For Sly Hinters, Masters Of Suggestion.

All Lovers Live By Longing, And Endure: Summon A Vision And Declare It Pure.

What Falls Away Is Always. And Is Near.