We Cling To Our Last Pleasures As

I Am Going To Enjoy Life In Paris I Know. It Is So Human And There Is Something Noble In The City... It Is A Real City, Old And Fine And Life Plays In It For Everybody To See.

Children Are Unaccountable Little Creatures.

Yes, My Mother's Death Is A Terrible Sorrow To Me. I Feel - Do You Know What I Mean - The Silence Of It So. She Was More Alive Than Anyone I Have Ever Known.

I Think I Hate Snow, Downright Hate It. There Is Something Stupefying In It, A Kind Of 'you Must Be Worse Before You're Better,' And Down It Spins.

Who Is To Decide Between 'let It Be' And 'force It'?