Inspiration Is Intention Obeyed.

What A Splendid Time Woo Must Have Had.

I Thought My Mountain Was Coming This Morning. It Was Near To Speaking When Suddenly It Shifted, Sulked, And Returned To Smallness. It Has Eluded Me Again And Sits There, Puny And Dull. Why?

It Is Wonderful To Feel The Grandness Of Canada In The Raw.

Indians Do Not Hinder The Progress Of Their Dead By Embalming Or Tight Coffining. When The Spirit Has Gone They Give The Body Back To The Earth. The Earth Welcomes The Body-coaxes New Life And Beauty From It, Hurries Over What Men Shudder At. Lovely Tender Herbage Bursts From The Graves, Swiftly, Exulting Over Corruption.

I Am Always Watching For Fear Of Getting Feeble And Passé In My Work. I Don't Want To Trickle Out. I Want To Pour Till The Pail Is Empty, The Last Bit Going Out In A Gush, Not In Drops.