Write A Little Every Day, Without Hope,

For Really, Dreaming Is The Well-mannered People's Way Of Committing Suicide.

Real Art Must Always Involve Some Witchcraft.

I Do Not Know If You Remember The Tale Of The Girl Who Saves The Ship Under Mutiny By Sitting On The Powder Barrel With Her Lighted Torch... And All The Time Knowing That It Is Empty? This Has Seemed To Me A Charming Image Of The Women Of My Time. There They Were, Keeping The World In Order... By Sitting On The Mystery Of Life, And Knowing Themselves That There Was No Mystery.

Nobody Has Seen The Trekking Birds Take Their Way Towards Such Warmer Spheres As Do Not Exist, Or Rivers Break Their Course Through Rocks And Plains To Run Into An Ocean Which Is Not To Be Found. For God Does Not Create A Longing Or A Hope Without Having A Fulfilling Reality Ready For Them. But Our Longing Is Our Pledge, And Blessed Are The Homesick, For They Shall Come Home.

The Flamingoes Are The Most Delicately Colored Of All The African Birds, Pink And Red Like A Flying Twig Of An Oleander Bush. They Have Incredibly Long Legs And Bizarre And Recherché Curves Of Their Necks And Bodies, As If From Some Exquisite Traditional Prudery They Were Making All Attitudes And Movements In Life As Difficult As Possible.