To Me, The Explanation Of Life Seems

There Is Something Strangely Determinate And Fatal About A Single Shot In The Night. It Is As If Someone Had Cried A Message To You In One Word, And Would Not Repeat It.

The Consolations Of The Vulgar Are Bitter In The Royal Ear. Let Physicians And Confectioners And Servants In The Great Houses Be Judged By What They Have Done, And Even By What They Have Meant To Do; The Great People Themselves Are Judged By What They Are. I Have Been Told That Lions, Trapped And Shut Up In Cages, Grieve From Shame More Than From Hunger.

I Will Not Let Thee Go, Except Thou Bless Me.

I Do Not Know If You Remember The Tale Of The Girl Who Saves The Ship Under Mutiny By Sitting On The Powder Barrel With Her Lighted Torch... And All The Time Knowing That It Is Empty? This Has Seemed To Me A Charming Image Of The Women Of My Time. There They Were, Keeping The World In Order... By Sitting On The Mystery Of Life, And Knowing Themselves That There Was No Mystery.

Man And Woman Are Two Locked Caskets, Of Which Each Contains The Key To The Other.