I Like To Write When I Feel

Reach Me A Gentian, Give Me A Torch! Let Me Guide Myself With The Blue, Forked Torch Of This Flower

I Know The Greatness Of Christianity; It Is A Past Greatness.. I Live In 1924, And The Christian Venture Is Done.

All Vital Truth Contains The Memory Of All That For Which It Is Not True.

The Spirit Of The Place Is A Strange Thing. Our Mechanical Age Tries To Override It. But It Does Not Succeed. In The End The Strange, Sinister Spirit Of The Place, So Diverse And Adverse In Differing Places, Will Smash Our Mechanical Oneness Into Smithereens.

I Am Turned Into A Dream. I Feel Nothing, Or I Don't Know What I Feel. Yet It Seems To Me I Am Happy.