You Walk Into A Room,

Nothing Is Proved, All Is Permitted.

How Dismal Is Progress Without Publicity.

Your Writer, Your Scientist, Your Chief Official, All Have Lost The Power To Revive The Early Illusion Concerning Fame And High Place. Their Beauty And Delight Is Like The Mirage In The Heavens, Only Plain To The Eye Outside; Within Is Nothing.

The Thing That Impressed Me Then As Now About New York… Was The Sharp, And At The Same Time Immense, Contrast It Showed Between The Dull And The Shrewd, The Strong And The Weak, The Rich And The Poor, The Wise And The Ignorant… The Strong, Or Those Who Ultimately Dominated, Were So Very Strong, And The Weak So Very, Very Weak - And So Very, Very Many.

The Most Futile Thing In This World Is Any Attempt, Perhaps, At Exact Definition Of Character. All Individuals Are A Bundle Of Contradictions - None More So Than The Most Capable.