The Divine Art Is The Story.

What Is Man, When You Come To Think Upon Him, But A Minutely Set, Ingenious Machine For Turning With Infinite Artfulness, The Red Wine Of Shiraz Into Urine?

And I Had By Now Become Used To The Idea Of Witchcraft, It Seemed A Reasonable Thing, So Many Things Are About, At Night, In Africa.

One Must In This Lower World Love Many Things To Know Finally What One Loves The Best.

I Do Not Know If You Remember The Tale Of The Girl Who Saves The Ship Under Mutiny By Sitting On The Powder Barrel With Her Lighted Torch... And All The Time Knowing That It Is Empty? This Has Seemed To Me A Charming Image Of The Women Of My Time. There They Were, Keeping The World In Order... By Sitting On The Mystery Of Life, And Knowing Themselves That There Was No Mystery.

I Have A Feeling That Wherever I May Be In The Future, I Will Be Wondering Whether There Is Rain At Ngong.