If We Are Moved By A Poem,

Hungry Hatred, Will Not Strive Against Intelligence Self-interest.

Here I Am, An Old Man In A Dry Month, Being Read To By A Boy, Waiting For Rain.

Dante And Shakespeare Divide The World Between Them. There Is No Third.

For Love Would Be Love Of The Wrong Thing; There Is Yet Faith, But The Faith And The Love And The Hope Are All In The Waiting.

Dear Mother, I Am Getting On Nicely In My Work At The Bank, And Like It ... I Want To Find Out Something About The Science Of Money While I Am At It; It Is An Extraordinarily Interesting Subject.