I Wrote Home To Say How Lovely

What I Don't Write Is As Important As What I Write.

It Is Sad That Unless You Are Born A God, Your Life,from Its Very Beginning, Is A Mystery To You.

Out Of The Corner Of One Eye, I Could See My Mother. Out Of The Corner Of The Other Eye, I Could See Her Shadow On The Wall, Cast There By The Lamplight. It Was A Big And Solid Shadow, And It Looked So Much Like My Mother That I Became Frightened. For I Could Not Be Sure Whether For The Rest Of My Life I Would Be Able To Tell When It Was Really My Mother And When It Was Really Her Shadow Standing Between Me And The Rest Of The World.

If I Actually Ran The World, I'd Do It From The Kitchen. It's Not Anything Deliberate Or A Statement Or Anything, That's Just How I Understand Things. It's Arranged Along Informal Lines.

It Was Hollow, My Triumph, I Could Feel That, But I Held On To It Just The Same.