Not All The Monsters Have Fangs.

Love, Genuine Passionate Love, Was His For The First Time.

He Felt Strangely Numb. As Though From A Great Distance, He Was Aware That He Was Being Beaten. The Last Sensations Of Pain Left Him. He No Longer Felt Anything, Though Very Faintly He Could Hear The Impact Of The Club Upon His Body. But It Was No Longer His Body, It Seemed So Far Away.

And How Have I Lived? Frankly And Openly, Though Crudely. I Have Not Been Afraid Of Life. I Have Not Shrunk From It. I Have Taken It For What It Was At Its Own Valuation. And I Have Not Been Ashamed Of It. Just As It Was, It Was Mine.

The Stone The Builders Rejected.

On The Sled, In The Box, Lay A Third Man Whose Toil Was Over, - A Man Whom The Wild Had Conquered And Beaten Down Until He Would Never Move Nor Struggle Again. It Is Not The Way Of The Wild To Like Movement. Life Is An Offense To It, For Life Is Movement; And The Wild Aims Always To Destroy Movement.