What's The Matter With This Country Is

One's Sentiments -- Call Them That -- One's Fidelities Are So Instinctive That One Hardly Knows They Exist: Only When They Are Betrayed Or, Worse Still, When One Betrays Them Does One Realize Their Power.

When One Is A Child, The Disposition Of Objects, Tables And Chairs And Doors, Seems Part Of The Natural Order: A House-move Lets In Chaos - As It Does For A Dog.

The Passion Of Vanity Has Its Own Depths In The Spirit, And Is Powerfully Militant.

Nothing Can Happen Nowhere. The Locale Of The Happening Always Colours The Happening, And Often, To A Degree, Shapes It.

[my Early Stories] Are The Work Of A Living Writer Whom I Know In A Sense, But Can Never Meet.