In Those Days I Had Various Strong

While We Are Young The Idea Of Death Or Failure Is Intolerable To Us; Even The Possibility Of Ridicule We Cannot Bear.

It Is Not The Visions But The Activity Which Makes You Happy, And The Joy And Glory Of The Flier Is The Flight Itself.

I Don't Think... One Get A Flash Of Happiness Once, And Never Again; It Is There Deep Within You.

I Had Seen A Herd Of Buffalo, One Hundred And Twenty-nine Of Them, Come Out Of The Morning Mist Under A Copper Sky, One By One, As If The Dark And Massive, Iron-like Animals With The Mighty Horizontally Swung Horns Were Not Approaching, But Were Being Created Before My Eyes And Sent Out As They Were Finished.

I Had A Farm In Africa, At The Foot Of The Ngong Hills. The Equator Runs Across These Highlands, A Hundred Miles To The North, And The Farm Lay At An Altitude Of Over Six Thousand Feet. In The Day-time You Felt That You Had Got High Up, Near To The Sun, But The Early Mornings And Evenings Were Limpid And Restful, And The Nights Were Cold.