What Will I Do When I Can

Love Is Every Bit As Violent And Dangerous As Murder.

I Have Gone To The Forest.

The Whisper Of The Blood And The Pleading Of The Bone Marrow.

No, What I Should Really Like To Do Right Now, In The Full Blaze Of Lights, Before This Illustrious Assembly, Is To Shower Every One Of You With Gifts, With Flowers, With Offerings Of Poetry - To Be Young Once More, To Ride On The Crest Of The Wave.

You Are Welcome To Your Intellectual Pastimes And Books And Art And Newspapers; Welcome, Too, To Your Bars And Your Whisky That Only Makes Me Ill. Here Am I In The Forest, Quite Content.