Sons Do Not Need You.

Children From Ten To Twenty Don't Want To Be Understood. Their Whole Ambition Is To Feel Strange And Alien And Misinterpreted So That They Can Live Austerely In Some Stone Tower Of Adolescence, Their Privacies Unviolated.

The Wonderful Thing About Saints Is That They Were Human. They Lost Their Tempers, Got Hungry, Scolded God, Were Egotistical Or Impatient In Their Turns, Made Mistakes And Regretted Them. Still They Went On Doggedly Blundering Toward Heaven.

I Do Not Know Who First Invented The Myth Of Sexual Equality. But It Is A Myth Willfully Fostered And Nourished By Certain Semi-scientists And Other Fiction Writers. And It Has Done More, I Suspect, To Unsettle Marital Happiness Than Any Other False Doctrine Of This Myth-ridden Age.

Ah, Snug Lie Those That Slumber Beneath Conviction's Roof. Their Floors Are Sturdy Lumber, Their Windows Weatherproof. But I Sleep Cold Forever And Cold Sleep All My Kind, For I Was Born To Shiver In The Draft From An Open Mind.

A Lover Would Find Life Less Broken Apart After A Misguided Love Affair If They Could Feel That They Had Been Sinful Rather Than Foolish.