Prison Is Not A Mere

For I Do Not Want Any One To Read My Book Carelessly. I Have Suffered Too Much Grief In Setting Down These Memories. Six Years Have Already Passed Since My Friend Went Away From Me, With His Sheep. If I Try To Describe Him Here, It Is To Make Sure That I Shall Not Forget Him. To Forget A Friend Is Sad. Not Every One Has Had A Friend. And If I Forget Him, I May Become Like The Grown-ups Who Are No Longer Interested In Anything But Figures.

The Wind In The Grain Is The Caress To The Spouse; It Is The Hand Of Peace Stroking Her Hair.

When A Mystery Is Too Overpowering, One Dare Not Disobey.

Perfection Is Attained, Not When No More Can Be Added, But When No More Can Be Removed.

Ephemeral" It Means 'which Is In Danger Of Speedy Disappearance.