I Kept This To Remind Me Of

You Are So Brave And Quiet I Forget You Are Suffering.

I Had An Inheritance From My Father, It Was The Moon And The Sun. And Though I Roam All Over The World, The Spending Of It’s Never Done.

The Further You Go In Writing The More Alone You Are. Most Of Your Best And Oldest Friends Die. Others Move Away. You Do Not See Them Except Rarely, But You Write And Have Much The Same Contact With Them As Though You Were Together At The Café In The Old Days. You Exchange Comic, Sometimes Cheerfully Obscene And Irresponsible Letters, And It Is Almost As Good As Talking. But You Are More Alone Because That Is How You Must Work And The Time To Work Is Shorter All The Time And If You Waste It You Feel You Have Committed A Sin For Which There Is No Forgiveness.

That Is What We Are Supposed To Do When We Are At Our Best - Make It All Up - But Make It Up So Truly That Later It Will Happen That Way.

Today Is Only One Day In All The Days That Will Ever Be. But What Will Happen In All The Other Days That Ever Come Can Depend On What You Do Today. It's Been That Way All This Year. It's Been That Way So Many Times. All Of War Is That Way.