I Am Glad It Cannot Happen Twice,

I Wondered Why It Was That Places Are So Much Lovelier When One Is Alone.

We Can Never Go Back Again, That Much Is Certain. The Past Is Still Close To Us. The Things We Have Tried To Forget And Put Behind Us Would Stir Again, And That Sense Of Fear, Of Furtive Unrest, Struggling At Length To Blind Unreasoning Panic - Now Mercifully Stilled, Thank God - Might In Some Manner Unforeseen Become A Living Companion As It Had Before.

Women Want Love To Be A Novel, Men A Short Story.

The Moment Of Crisis Had Come, And I Must Face It. My Old Fears, My Diffidence, My Shyness, My Hopeless Sense Of Inferiority, Must Be Conquered Now And Thrust Aside. If I Failed Now I Should Fail Forever.

We Are All Ghosts Of Yesterday, And The Phantom Of Tomorrow Awaits Us Alike In Sunshine Or In Shadow, Dimly Perceived At Times, Never Entirely Lost.