The circle of our understanding is a very restricted area.

The Church must be forever building, for it is forever decaying within and attacked from without.

Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?

This is one moment, / But know that another / Shall pierce you with a sudden painful joy.

Should I, after tea and cakes and ices, have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?

Survival is your strength not your shame.

Composing on the typewriter, I find that I am sloughing off all my long sentences which I used to dote upon. Short, staccato, like modern French prose. The typewriter makes for lucidity, but I am not sure that it encourages subtlety.