Everything I Have Written Is

Camels Are Snobbish And Sheep, Unintelligent; Water Buffaloes, Neurasthenic-- Even Murderous. Reindeer Seem Over-serious.

The Prey Of Fear, He, Always Curtailed, Extinguished, Thwarted By The Dusk, Work Partly Done, Says To The Alternating Blaze, "again The Sun! Anew Each Day; And New And New And New, That Comes Into And Steadies My Soul."

They Fought The Enemy, We Fight Fat Living And Self-pity. Shine, O Shine, Unfalsifying Sun, On This Sick Scene.

A Writer Is Unfair To Himself When He Is Unable To Be Hard On Himself.

At All Events There Is In Brooklyn Something That Makes Me Feel At Home.