Half A Calamity Is Better Than A

I Could Write For Hours On The Lustfulness Of Moving Swiftly.

Many Men Would Take The Death-sentence Without A Whimper, To Escape The Life-sentence Which Fate Carries In Her Other Hand.

This Creed Of The Desert Seemed Inexpressible In Words, And Indeed In Thought.

Some Of The Evil Of My Tale May Have Been Inherent In Our Circumstances. For Years We Lived Anyhow With One Another In The Naked Desert, Under The Indifferent Heaven.

Suppose We Were (as We Might Be) An Influence, An Idea, A Thing Intangible, Invulnerable, Without Front Or Back, Drifting About Like A Gas? Armies Were Like Plants, Immobile, Firm-rooted, Nourished Through Long Stems To The Head. We Might Be A Vapour, Blowing Where We Listed Ours Should Be A War Of Detachment. We Were To Contain The Enemy By The Silent Threat Of A Vast, Unknown Desert