The Entire Being Of A Woman Is

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.

The Lime Trees Were In Bloom. But In The Early Morning Only A Faint Fragrance Drifted Through The Garden, An Airy Message, An Aromatic Echo Of The Dreams During The Short Summer Night.

Now, Looking Back On My Life In Africa, I Feel That It Might Altogether Be Described As The Existence Of A Person Who Had Come From A Rushed And Noisy World, Into A Still Country.

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.

Difficult Times Have Helped Me To Understand Better Than Before, How Infinitely Rich And Beautiful Life Is In Every Way, And That So Many Things That One Goes Worrying About Are Of No Importance Whatsoever.