Children Are Unaccountable Little Creatures.

Letters Are The Real Curse Of My Existence. I Hate To Write Them: I Have To. If I Don't, There They Are - The Great Guilty Gates Barring My Way.

In The Woods Where Snow Is Thick, Bars Of Sunlight Lay Like Pale Fire.

I Always Felt That The Great High Privilege, Relief And Comfort Of Friendship Was That One Had To Explain Nothing.

To Acknowledge The Presence Of Fear Is To Give Birth To Failure.

Ah, What Happiness It Is To Be With People Who All Are Happy, To Press Hands, Press Cheeks, Smile Into Eyes.