Our Accepting What We Are Must Always

The Bowed Head, The Buried Face. She Is Silent, She Will Never Speak, Never Forgive, Never Reach A Hand, Never Leave This Frozen Present Tense. All Waits, Suspended. Suspended The Autumn Trees, The Autumn Sky, Anonymous People. A Blackbird, Poor Fool, Sings Out Of Season From The Willows By The Lake. A Flight Of Pigeons Over The Houses; Fragments Of Freedom, Hazard, An Anagram Made Flesh. And Somewhere The Stinging Smell Of Burning Leaves.

But I Think The Most Harmful Change Brought About By Victorian Science In Our Attitude To Nature Lies In The Demand That Our Relation With It Must Be Purposive, Industrious, Always Seeking Greater Knowledge.

He Was One Of The Most Supremely Stupid Men I Have Ever Met. He Taught Me A Great Deal.

There Are Two Kinds Of Hangover: In One You Feel Ill And Incapable, In The Other You Feel Ill And Lucid.

It Was Too Exactly As Imagined To Be True. But I Felt As Gladly And Expectantly Disorientated, As Happily And Alertly Alone, As Alice In Wonderland.