Such Excess Of Passion Is Quite Out

If You're Doing Nonsense It Has To Be Rather Awful, Because There'd Be No Point. I'm Trying To Think If There's Sunny Nonsense. Sunny, Funny Nonsense For Children — Oh, How Boring, Boring, Boring. As Schubert Said, There Is No Happy Music. And That's True, There Really Isn't. And There's Probably No Happy Nonsense, Either.

A Small And Sinister Snow Seems To Be Coming Down Relentlessly At Present. The Radio Says It Is Eventually Going To Be Sleet And Rain, But I Don't Think So; I Think It Is Just Going To Go On And On, Coming Down, Until The Whole World...etc. It Has That Look.

I Am A Person Before I Am Anything Else. I Never Say I Am A Writer. I Never Say I Am An Artist...i Am A Person Who Does Those Things.

Explaining Something Makes It Go Away, So To Speak; What's Important Is Left After You Have Explained Everything Else.

I Have Given Up Considering Happiness As Relevant.