Things Were Not Tragic For Us Then,

But You, Oh Gardener, Poet That You Be / Though Unaware, Now Use Your Seeds Like Words / And Make Them Lilt With Color Nicely Flung.

Ambition, Old As Mankind, The Immemorial Weakness Of The Strong.

Travel Is The Most Private Of Pleasures. There Is No Greater Bore Than The Travel Bore. We Do Not In The Least Want To Hear What He Has Seen In Hong-kong.

I Like Owls. I Admire Their Intransigent Spirit. I Have Respected Them Deeply Ever Since I Met A Baby Owl In A Wood, When It Fell Over Dead, Apparently From Sheer Temper, Because I Dared To Approach It. It Defied Me First, And Then Died. I Have Never Forgotten The Horror And Shame I Experienced When That Soft Fluffy Thing (towards Which I Had Nothing But The Most Humanitarian Motives) Fell Dead From Rage At My Feet.

I Have Come To The Conclusion, After Many Years Of Sometimes Sad Experience, That You Cannot Come To Any Conclusion At All.