I Was Wandering Around As

He Stood Staring Into The Wood For A Minute, Then Said: "what Is It About The English Countryside — Why Is The Beauty So Much More Than Visual? Why Does It Touch One So?" He Sounded Faintly Sad. Perhaps He Finds Beauty Saddening — I Do Myself Sometimes. Once When I Was Quite Little I Asked Father Why This Was And He Explained That It Was Due To Our Knowledge Of Beauty's Evanescence, Which Reminds Us That We Ourselves Shall Die. Then He Said I Was Probably Too Young To Understand Him; But I Understood Perfectly.

I Like Seeing People When They Can't See Me.

I Could Hear Rain Still Pouring From The Gutters And A Thin Branch Scraping Against One Of The Windows; But The Church Seemed Completely Cut Off From The Restless Day Outside--just As I Felt Cut Off From The Church. I Thought: I Am A Restlessness Inside A Stillness Inside A Restlessness.

So Many Of The Loveliest Things In England Are Melancholy.

Perhaps What You Call Conventionality, I Call Decency.