I Want To Be All That I

That's All Life Is - Something Childish And Very Natural. Isn't It?

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.

Isn't Life,' She Stammered, 'isn't Life--' But What Life Was She Couldn't Explain. No Matter. He Quite Understood. 'isn't It, Darling?' Said Laurie.

Tidied All My Papers. Tore Up And Ruthlessly Destroyed Much. This Is Always A Great Satisfaction.

Who Is To Decide Between 'let It Be' And 'force It'?