The Truth Came Slowly Like A Story

People Steal Into One's Consciousness And Occupy What Seems, In Retrospect, To Have Been Their Place All Along.

I've Always Known A Lot Of Very Bad People, Destructive, Brutes Of A Certain Kind. Then I've Seen These Lovely Impulses And What Not, And They've Stayed With Me And Comforted Me.

The Minute You Become Conscious That You Are Doing Good, That's The Minute You Have To Stop Because From Then On It's Wrong.

Imagination Has To Do With One's Awareness Of The Reality Of Other People As Well As Of One's Own Reality. Imagination Is A Bridge Between The Provincialism Of The Self And The Great World.

My Father Brought Me A Box Of Books Once When I Was About Three And A Half Or Four. I Remember The Carton They Were In And The Covers With Illustrations By Newell C. Wyeth.