Tools Have Their Own Integrity.

It Is A Sad Moment When The First Phlox Appears. It Is The Amber Light Indicating The End Of The Great Burst Of Early Summer And Suggesting That We Must Now Start Looking Forward To Autumn. Not That I Have Any Objection To Autumn As A Season, Full Of Its Own Beauty; But I Just Cannot Bear To See Another Summer Go, And I Recoil From What The First Hint Of Autumn Means.

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

Among The Many Problems Which Beset The Novelist, Not The Least Weighty Is The Choice Of The Moment At Which To Begin His Novel.

Of Course I Should Love To Throw A Toothbrush Into A Bag, And Just Go, Quite Vaguely, Without Any Plans Or Even A Real Destination. It Is The Wanderlust.

I Cannot Bear That You / Should Think Me Faithful, When I Am Untrue.