That Is Not It At All, That

The Fool,fixed In His Folly,may Think He Can Turn The Wheel On Which He Turns.

Half Of The Harm That Is Done In This World Is Due To People Who Want To Feel Important. They Don't Mean To Do Harm. But The Harm Does Not Interest Them.

His Laughter Tinkled Among The Teacups.

The Communication Of The Dead Is Tongued With Fire Beyond The Language Of The Living.

Trying To Use Words, And Every Attempt Is A Wholly New Start, And A Different Kind Of Failure Because One Has Only Learnt To Get The Better Of Words For The Thing One No Longer Has To Say, Or The Way In Which One Is No Longer Disposed To Say It. And So Each Venture Is A New Beginning, A Raid On The Inarticulate With Shabby Equipment Always Deteriorating In The General Mess Of Imprecision Of Feeling.