Oh, I’m Not A Berkeleian. I Believe

She Mixes Religion With Desertion To Make It Sound Noble.

Despair Is The Price One Pays For Setting Oneself An Impossible Aim. It Is, One Is Told, The Unforgivable Sin, But It Is A Sin The Corrupt Or Evil Man Never Practices. He Always Has Hope. He Never Reaches The Freezing-point Of Knowing Absolute Failure. Only The Man Of Goodwill Carries Always In His Heart This Capacity For Damnation.

A Writer Doesn't Write For His Readers, Does He? Yet He Has To Take Elementary Precautions All The Same, To Make Them Comfortable.

We Remember The Details Of Our Story, We Do Not Invent Them.

So Much In Writing Depends On The Superficiality Of One's Days.