I Do Not Think That

It Is When One Begins To Lose The Consciousness Of Freedom, And When The Idea Of Necessity Enters The World At All, When There Is Any Hurry Or Strain Anywhere, A Letter To Be Written Or A Train To Catch, When You Have Got To Work, To Make The Horses Of The Dream Gallop, Or To Make The Rifles Go Off, That The Dream Is Declining, And Turning Into The Nightmare, Which Belongs To The Poorest And Most Vulgar Class Of Dreams.

I Think It Will Be Truly Glorious When Women Become Real People And Have The Whole World Open To Them.

We Invent The Past And Remember The Future.

I Had A Farm In Africa, At The Foot Of The Ngong Hills.

To Me, The Explanation Of Life Seems To Be Its Melody, Its Pattern. And I Feel In Life Such An Infinite, Truly Inconceivable Fantasy.