Some People Are Molded By Their Admirations,

Each Of Us Keeps, Battened Down Inside Himself, A Sort Of Lunatic Giant; Impossible Socially, But Full Scale; And It's The Knockings And Battering We Sometimes Hear In Each Other That Keep Our Banter From Utter Banality.

Ghosts, We Hope, May Be Always With Us - That Is, Never Too Far Out Of The Reach Of Fancy. On The Whole, It Would Seem They Adapt Themselves Well, Perhaps Better Than We Do, To Changing World Conditions - They Enlarge Their Domain, Shift Their Hold On Our Nerves, And, Dispossessed Of One Habitat, Set Up House In Another. The Universal Battiness Of Our Century Looks Like Providing Them With A Propitious Climate.

To Leap Is Not Only To Leap, It Is To Hit The Ground Somewhere.

We Desert Those Who Desert Us; We Cannot Afford To Suffer; We Must Live How We Can.

Certain Books Come To Meet Me, As Do People.