The Sky Over Patusan Was Blood-red, Immense,

Any Work That Aspires, However Humbly, To The Condition Of Art Should Carry Its Justification In Every Line.

A Man's Most Open Actions Have A Secret Side To Them.

Who Would Care To Question The Ground Of Forgiveness Or Compassion.

We Owe Much To The Fruitful Meditation Of Our Sages, But A Sane View Of Life Is, After All, Elaborated Mainly In The Kitchen.

I Remember My Youth And The Feeling That Will Never Come Back Any More /the Feeling That I Could Last For Ever, Outlast The Sea, The Earth, And All Men; The Deceitful Feeling That Lures Us On To Joys, To Perils, To Love, To Vain Effort /to Death; The Triumphant Conviction Of Strength, The Heat Of Life In The Handful Of Dust, The Glow In The Heart That With Every Year Grows Dim, Grows Cold, Grows Small, And Expires /and Expires, Too Soon, Too Soon /before Life Itself