Loyal? As Loyal As Anyone Who Plays

The Heart, When It Is Too Much Alive, Aches For That Brown Earth, And Ecstasy Has No Fear Of Death.

On The Farm The Weather Was The Great Fact, And Men's Affairs Went On Underneath It, As The Streams Creep Under The Ice.

Paris Is A Hard Place To Leave, Even When It Rains Incessantly And One Coughs Continually From The Dampness.

I Have Not Much Faith In Women In Fiction.... Women Are So Horribly Subjective And They Have Such Scorn For The Healthy Commonplace. When A Woman Writes A Story Of Adventure, A Stout Sea Tale, A Manly Battle Yarn, Anything Without Wine, Women, And Love, Then I Will Begin To Hope For Something Great From Them, Not Before.

Success Is Never So Interesting As Struggle