There Is No First World

Remember That The Animals And Plants Have No M.p. They Can Write To; They Can't Perform Sit-down Strikes Or, Indeed, Strikes Of Any Sort; They Have Nobody To Speak For Them Except Us, The Human Beings Who Share The World With Them But Do Not Own It.

Each Day Had A Tranquility A Timelessness About It So That You Wished It Would Never End. But Then The Dark Skin Of The Night Would Peel Off And There Would Be A Fresh Day Waiting For Us Glossy And Colorful As A Child's Transfer And With The Same Tinge Of Unreality.

Right In The Hart Of The Africn Jungel A Small Wite Man Lives. Now There Is One Extraordinary Fact About Him That He Is The Frind Of All Animals.

All Over The World The Wildlife That I Write About Is In Grave Danger. It Is Being Exterminated By What We Call The Progress Of Civilization.

Why Keep In Touch With Them? That's What I Want To Know,' Asked Larry Despairingly. 'what Satisfaction Does It Give You? They're All Either Fossilized Or Mental.' 'indeed, They're Not Mental,' Said Mother Indignantly. 'nonsense, Mother... Look At Aunt Bertha, Keeping Flocks Of Imaginary Cats... And There's Great-uncle Patrick, Who Wanders About Nude And Tells Complete Strangers How He Killed Whales With A Penknife...they're All Bats.