Evil Is Dull, That Is The Worst

I Am In Paris. Yes Ma'am , I Made It Back. I Came Up From Berlin, Stopped Here Ten Days, Fought A Losing Battle Against My Deepest Inclinations, Pulled Myself Out By The Hair And Went To Madrid...madrid Is A Lovely Enchanting City, And There Was Almost Ready For Me A Kind Of Penthouse Full Of Sunlight, A Roof Garden, And So On. I Gave One Look At It All, Returned To The Hotel And Went To Bed And Wept Bitterly For Eleven Hours...why? Because I Had Seen Paris And Could Not Endure The Thought Of Being Anywhere Else.

I Think I've Only Spent About Ten Percent Of My Energies On Writing. The Other Ninety Percent Went To Keeping My Head Above Water.

Evil Is Dull, That Is The Worst Of It.

There Seems To Be A Kind Of Order In The Universe…in The Movement Of The Stars And The Turning Of The Earth And The Changing Of The Seasons. But Human Life Is Almost Pure Chaos. Everyone Takes His Stance, Asserts His Own Right And Feelings, Mistaking The Motives Of Others, And His Own.

I Have Not Much Interest In Anyone's Personal History After The Tenth Year, Not Even My Own. Whatever One Was Going To Be Was All Prepared Before That.