People keep on getting married. Evidently hope is eternal in the human breast. - Sherwood Anderson

What I as a man want is to be able, some time in my life, to do something well — to do some piece of work finely just for the sake of doing it — to know the feel of a thing growing into a life of its own under my fingers, eh?

On the trees are only a few gnarled apples that the pickers have rejected. They look like the knuckles of Doctor Reefy's hands. One nibbles at them and they are delicious. Into a little round place at the side of the apple has been gathered all its sweetness. One runs from tree to tree over the frosted ground picking the gnarled, twisted apples and filling his pockets with them. Only the few know the sweetness of the twisted apples.

It is no use. I find it impossible to work with security staring me in the face.