Boredom is the legitimate kingdom of the philanthropic.

But what is more to the point is my belief that the habit of writing thus for my own eye only is good practice. It loosens the ligaments. Never mind the misses and the stumbles.

It was the intimacy, a sort of spiritual suppleness, when mind prints upon mind indelibly.

Do not move, do not go. Sink within this moment. Hold it for ever.

So I have to create the whole thing afresh for myself each time. Probably all writers now are in the same boat. It is the penalty we pay for breaking with tradition, and the solitude makes the writing more exciting though the being read less so. One ought to sink to the bottom of the sea, probably, and live alone with ones words.

But then anyone who's worth anything reads just what he likes, as the mood takes him, and with extravagant enthusiasm.

As I grow old I hate the writing of letters more and more, and like getting them better and better.