I wish that I was where I am.

One of the things that I discovered in lecturing was that gradually one ceased to hear what one said one heard what the audience hears one say.

But then of course a philosophy is not the same thing as a style.

A FEATHER. A feather is trimmed, it is trimmed by the light and the bug and the post, it is trimmed by little leaning and by all sorts of mounted reserves and loud volumes. It is surely cohesive.

If the communication is perfect, the words have life, and that is all there is to good writing, putting down on the paper words which dance and weep and make love and fight and kiss and perform miracles.

Before the flowers of friendship faded friendship faded.

Why should a sequence of words be anything but a pleasure?