I Only Want To Write. And There's

Thinking Of Death--strange, Beautiful, Terrible And A Long Way Off--made Me Feel Happier Than Ever.

Perhaps What You Call Conventionality, I Call Decency.

Just To Be In Love Seemed The Most Blissful Luxury I Had Ever Known. The Thought Came To Me That Perhaps It Is The Loving That Counts, Not The Being Loved In Return -- That Perhaps True Loving Can Never Know Anything But Happiness. For A Moment I Felt That I Had Discovered A Great Truth.

He Laughed A Little, In An Odd, Nervous Kind Of Way. "because If I Don't Get Going Soon, The Whole Impetus May Die--and If That Happens, Well, I Really Shall Consider A Long, Restful Plunge Into Insanity. Sometimes The Abyss Yawns Very Attractively.

I Was Wandering Around As Usual, In My Unpleasantly Populated Sub-conscious.