Out of the ash I rise with my red hair and I eat men like air.

The reason I haven't been writing in this book for so long is partly that I haven't had one decent coherent thought to put down.

It is a feeling that no matter what the ideas or conduct of others, there is a unique rightness and beauty to life which can be shared in openness, in wind and sunlight, with a fellow human being who believes in the same basic principles.

To learn and think; to think and live; to live and learn: this always, with new insight, new understanding, and new love.

I want so obviously, so desperately to be loved, and to be capable of love.

I wanted to be where nobody I knew could ever come.

So you got rid of your astonishment that someone could write so much more dynamically than you. You stopped cherishing your aloneness and poetic differentness to your delicately flat little bosom. You said: she's to good to forget. How about making her a friend and competitor — you could learn alot from her. So you'll try. So maybe she'll laugh in your face. So maybe she'll beat you hollow in the end. So anyhow, you'll try, and maybe, possibly, she can stand you. Here's hoping!