...with Stories Even A Page Can Take

Was I The Only Woman In The World Who, At My Age - And After A Lifetime Of Quite Rampant Independence - Still Did Not Quite Feel Grown Up?

I Found It Quite Easy To Carry On A Casual Conversation It Was As If My Real Feelings Were Down Fathoms Deep In My Mind And What We Said Was Just A Feathery Surface Spray.

I Write This Sitting In The Kitchen Sink.

My God - It's A Green Child!" Said The American. "what Is This Place - The House Of Usher?

He Stood Staring Into The Wood For A Minute, Then Said: "what Is It About The English Countryside — Why Is The Beauty So Much More Than Visual? Why Does It Touch One So?" He Sounded Faintly Sad. Perhaps He Finds Beauty Saddening — I Do Myself Sometimes. Once When I Was Quite Little I Asked Father Why This Was And He Explained That It Was Due To Our Knowledge Of Beauty's Evanescence, Which Reminds Us That We Ourselves Shall Die. Then He Said I Was Probably Too Young To Understand Him; But I Understood Perfectly.