Though Not All Reading Children Grow Up

Dogs Are A Habit, I Think.

All Your Youth You Want To Have Your Greatness Taken For Granted; When You Find It Taken For Granted, You Are Unnerved.

We Desert Those Who Desert Us; We Cannot Afford To Suffer; We Must Live How We Can.

Very Young People Are True But Not Resounding Instruments.

The Writer, Like A Swimmer Caught By An Undertow, Is Borne In An Unexpected Direction. He Is Carried To A Subject Which Has Awaited Him--a Subject Sometimes No Part Of His Conscious Plan. Reality, The Reality Of Sensation, Has Accumulated Where It Was Least Sought. To Write Is To Be Captured--captured By Some Experience To Which One May Have Given Hardly A Thought.