Warm, Eager, Living Life-to Be Rooted In

Perhaps It Does Not Matter So Very Much What It Is One Loves In This World. But Love Something One Must.

I Have Such A Horror Of Telegrams That Ask Me How I Am!! I Always Want To Reply Dead.

The Late Evening Is The Time Of Times. Then With That Unearthly Beauty Before One It Is Not Hard To Realise How Far One Has To Go. To Write Something That Will Be Worthy Of That Rising Moon, That Pale Light.

I Love This Place; I Love Mountains And Big Skies And Forests. And The Weather Is Still Supremely Beautiful Even Though The Lower Peaks Are Powdered With Fresh Snow. But Heavens! What Sun. It Never Has An Ending. I Am Basking At This Minute - Half Past Four - Too Hot Without A Hat, & The Sky Is That Transparent Blue Only To Be Seen In Autumn - The Forest Trees Steeped In Light.

If One Really Does Try To Find Out Why It Is That People Don't Leave Each Other, One Discovers A Mystery. It Is Because They Can't; They Are Bound. And Nobody On Earth Knows What Are The Bonds That Bind Them Except Those Two.