I May Have Made A

Nothing Stinks Like A Pile Of Unpublished Writing.

I Want So Obviously, So Desperately To Be Loved, And To Be Capable Of Love.

Sunday-the Doctor's Paradise! Doctors At Country Clubs, Doctors At The Seaside, Doctors With Mistresses, Doctors With Wives, Doctors In Church, Doctors In Yachts, Doctors Everywhere Resolutely Being People, Not Doctors.

And The Danger Is That In This Move Toward New Horizons And Far Directions, That I May Lose What I Have Now, And Not Find Anything Except Loneliness

How Can You Be So Many Women To So Many Strange People, Oh You Strange Girl?