The First Sip [of Tea] Is Joy,

We Were On The Roof Of America And All We Could Do Was Yell

A Sociable Smile Is Nothing But A Mouth Full Of Teeth.

Walking On Water Wasn't Built In A Day.

We Wandered In A Frenzy And A Dream (301).

You Don't Realize What A Strain It Is On The Nerves To Write Or Think-of-writing All Day Long, And To Sleep Full Of Nervous Dreams, And To Wake Up Not Knowing Who One Is: This All Stems From Anxiety About Finishing The Book, About Time 'growing Short', Etc., And The Perpetual Strain Of Invention.