My Mistake Was In Ever Opening The

I Was Carrying A Beautiful Alcoholic Conflagration Around With Me. The Thing Fed On Its Own Heat And Flamed The Fiercer. There Was No Time, In All My Waking Time, That I Didn't Want A Drink. I Began To Anticipate The Completion Of My Daily Thousand Words By Taking A Drink When Only Five Hundred Words Were Written. It Was Not Long Until I Prefaced The Beginning Of The Thousand Words With A Drink.

The Ghostly Winter Silence Had Given Way To The Great Spring Murmur Of Awakening Life.

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.

Intelligent Men Are Cruel. Stupid Men Are Monstrously Cruel.

The Pitch To Which He Was Aroused Was Tremendous. All The Fighting Blood Of His Breed Was Up In Him And Surging Through Him. This Was Living., Though He Did Not Know It. He Was Realizing His Own Meaning In The World; He Was Doing That For Which He Was Made.... He Was Justifying His Existence, Than Which Life Can Do No Greater; For Life Achieves Its Summit When It Does To The Uttermost That Which It Was Equipped To Do.