I Write For No Other Purpose Than

Don't Write Too Much. Concentrate Your Sweat On One Story, Rather Than Dissipate It Over A Dozen.

Stupid Women, And All Are Stupid, Think The First Winning Of The Man The Final Victory. Then They Settle Down And Grow Fat, And Stale, And Dead, And Heartbroken. Alas, They Are So Stupid. But You, Little Infant-woman With Your First Victory, You Must Make Your Love-life An Unending Chain Of Victories. Each Day You Must Win Your Man Again. And When You Have Won The Last Victory, When You Can Find No More To Win, Then Ends Love. Finis Is Written, And Your Man Wanders In Strange Gardens.

The Life That Is Demanding To Be Born Is Limitless. Nature Is A Spendthrift. Look At The Fish And Their Millions Of Eggs. For That Matter, Look At You And Me. In Our Loins Are The Possibilities Of Millions Of Lives. Could We But Find Time And Opportunity And Utilize The Last Bit And Every Bit Of The Unborn Life That Is In Us, We Could Become The Fathers Of Nations And Populate Continents.

Men Do Not Knowingly Drink For The Effect Alcohol Produces On The Body. What They Drink For Is The Brain-effect; And If It Must Come Through The Body, So Much The Worse For The Body.

He Was Sounding The Deeps Of His Nature, And Of The Parts Of His Nature That Were Deeper Than He, Going Back Into The Womb Of Time.