I Think It's All To The Good

My Father Gave Me Free Run Of His Library. When I Think Of My Boyhood, I Think In Terms Of The Books I Read.

There Is An Hour Of The Afternoon When The Plain Is On The Verge Of Saying Something. It Never Says, Or Perhaps It Says It Infinitely, Or Perhaps We Do Not Understand It, Or We Understand It And It Is Untranslatable As Music.

That One Individual Should Awaken In Another Memories That Belong To Still A Third Is An Obvious Paradox.

When Writers Die They Become Books, Which Is, After All, Not Too Bad An Incarnation.

Happy Are The Beloved And The Lovers And Those Who Can Live Without Love.