When One Is Writing A Novel In

We Can Never Go Back Again, That Much Is Certain. The Past Is Still Close To Us. The Things We Have Tried To Forget And Put Behind Us Would Stir Again, And That Sense Of Fear, Of Furtive Unrest, Struggling At Length To Blind Unreasoning Panic - Now Mercifully Stilled, Thank God - Might In Some Manner Unforeseen Become A Living Companion As It Had Before.

Because I Want To; Because I Must; Because Now And Forever More This Is Where I Belong To Be.

There Is No Going Back In Life. There Is No Return. No Second Chance.

...the Routine Of Life Goes On, Whatever Happens, We Do The Same Things, Go Through The Little Performance Of Eating, Sleeping, Washing. No Crisis Can Break Through The Crust Of Habit.

I Wondered Why It Was That Places Are So Much Lovelier When One Is Alone.