I had been keeping an off eye on the advertising field, thinking I might become an idea man and a copywriter.

What is there more of in the world than anything else? Ends.

Not often in the story of mankind does a man arrive on earth who is both steel and velvet, who is as hard as rock and soft as drifting fog, who holds in his heart and mind the paradox of terrible storm and peace unspeakable and perfect.

I take you and pile high the memories. Death will break her claws on some I keep.

I have often wondered what it is an old building can do to you when you happen to know a little about things that went on long ago in that building.

I have in later years taken to Euclid, Whitehead, Bertrand Russell, in an elemental way.

I decided I would go to Chicago and try my luck as a writer after those eight months as a fireman.