I Must Say, I Hate Money. But

I Want So To Live That I Work With My Hands And My Feeling And My Brain. I Want A Garden, A Small House, Grass, Animals, Books, Pictures, Music. And Out Of This, The Expression Of This, I Want To Be Writing (though I May Write About Cabmen. That’s No Matter.) But Warm, Eager, Living Life — To Be Rooted In Life — To Learn, To Desire, To Feel, To Think, To Act. This Is What I Want. And Nothing Less. That Is What I Must Try For.

By Health I Mean The Power To Live A Full, Adult, Living, Breathing Life In Close Contact With... The Earth And The Wonders Thereof - The Sea - The Sun.

September Is Different From All Other Months. It Is More Magical. I Feel The Strange Chemical Change In The Earth Which Produces Mushrooms Is The Cause, Too, Of The Extra 'life' In The Air - A Resilience, A Sparkle.

What Happiness It Is To Listen To Rain At Night; Joyful Relief, Ease; A Lapping-round And Hushing And Brooding Tenderness, All Are Mingled Together In The Sound Of The Fast-falling Rain. God, Looking Down Upon The Rainy Earth, Sees How Faint Are These Lights Shining In Little Windows, - How Easily Put Out.

I Must Say, I Hate Money. But It's The Lack Of It I Hate Most.