I remember every word ever said to me.
There’s another question I’d like the answer to.
So we had to go somewhere new.
Everyone stood there, quiet.
The silence was longer this time.
I find that difficult to believe.
I didn’t like where this might go.
Nothing’s bothered us here so far.
I knew how this was going to turn out.
No, there’s nothing you can do about it.
And the sky is blue and the sun yellow.
You have waited in these places into the early mornings.
Keep away from that bit of wall, there’s nothing to hold it up.
There’s a security problem here.
Anybody’s guess what’s happening over on the other side.
Were the radiant curtains just about to swing open?
There is no way out. Lie and wait, lie still and be quiet.
It is a judgment from which there is no appeal.
It has happened before, but there is nothing to compare it to now.
A cold sadness was there.
Alone, quite alone. You have no fear of that.
And I am not afraid to make a mistake, even a great mistake, a lifelong mistake, and perhaps as long as eternity too.
I do not fear to be alone or to be spurned for another or to leave whatever I have to leave.
I fear many things: dogs, horses, firearms, the sea, thunderstorms, machinery, the country roads at night.
Is there anything else you want to know?
Symbol of departure or of loneliness?
What birds were they?
He had written verses for her again after ten years.
The full morning light had come.
His mind emptied of theory and courage, lapsed back into a listless peace.
You see that it is that thing which it is and no other thing.
An esthetic image is presented to us either in space or in time.
I see, however, two ways out.
That seems to be a maze out of which we cannot escape.
Something we see and like!
What is art? What is the beauty it expresses?
Our day will come yet, believe me.
I shall express myself as I am.
We never can say what is in us.
These are some interesting points we might take up.
What lay behind it or within it?
Many go down into the depths and never come up.
I stumble on an idea once a fortnight if I am lucky.
A draught is said to be a help in these matters.
What the beautiful is is another question.
The object of the artist is the creation of the beautiful.
This is one of the useful arts.
We have the liberal arts and we have the useful arts.
There is an art in lighting a fire.
I went up and knocked at the door.
Next Page »