You Have To Stop Living In Order

Then Somebody Suggested I Should Write About The War, And I Said I Didn't Know Anything About The War. I Did Not Understand Anything About It. I Didn't See How I Could Write It

If I Were A First Rate Writer, I Wouldn't Mind A Bit. What Does Depress Me Is This: It Is So Desperately Hard And So Obsessive And So Lonely To Write That, In Return For All This Work, One Would Like A Little Self Satisfaction. And That Is Never Going To Come, For The Simple Reason That I Do Not Deserve It. I Cannot Be A Good Enough Writer. You See? I Call It Grim. But The Future Looks Awfully Clear To Me.

Despite Official Drivel About Clean Bombs And Tactical Nuclear Weapons, Anyone Who Can Read A Newspaper Or Listen To A Radio Knows That Some Of Us Mortals Have The Power To Destroy The Human Race And Man's Home On Earth. We Need Not Even Make War; Only By Preparing, By Playing With Our New Weapons, We Poison The Air, The Water, The Soil Of Our Plants, Damage The Health Of The Living, And Weaken The Chances Of The Newborn.

Life Is Not Long At All, Never Long Enough, But Days Are Very Long Indeed.

It Is Charming The Way Everyone In The South Says, 'come Back.' This Is The Regulation Farewell At Gas Stations, Soda Fountains, General Stores, Tourist Camps. 'come Back,' They Call, 'come Back.' Do They Feel Marooned In One Place, Lost, Needing To Believe Someone Will Return To Share Their Exile On The Similar Main Streets, In The Varied But Always New-looking Land?