Of Course I Think Of The Past

To Think Is To Be Sick.

Even The Contemplative Life Is Only An Effort, Nora My Dear, To Hide The Body So The Feet Won’t Stick Out.

The Unendurable Is The Beginning Of The Curve Of Joy.

The Night Is A Skin Pulled Over The Head Of Day That The Day May Be In Torment.

My War Brought Me Many Things; Let Yours Bring You As Much. Life Is Not To Be Told, Call It As Loud As You Like, It Will Not Tell Itself. No One Will Be Much Or Little Except In Someone Else's Mind, So Be Careful Of The Minds You Get Into, And Remember Lady Macbeth, Who Had Her Mind In Her Hand. We Can't All Be As Safe As That.