The floor seemed wonderfully solid. It was comforting to know I had fallen and could fall no farther.

Hour by hour, day by day, life becomes possible.

I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life. And I am horribly limited.

I must be lean & write & make worlds beside this to live in.

That is salvation. To give of love inside. To keep love of life, no matter what, and give to others. Generously.

Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you.

Happy! That is indefinable as far as states of being go.