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192 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1946

And we can never be safe unless we believe we are great and that human life is abiding and the sun constant and that we matter. Once broken, that fragile illusion would disclose the secret panic, the vacuity within us. Life then could not be tolerable.
Anxiety is the modern affliction, belonging to the long twilights, the uncertain modern weather; neither sun nor snow and neither grief nor joy.
Fantasy can be damaging. Reality can't hold a candle to it, everyday life doesn't stand a chance.
Sometimes, a small thing, the way words are arranged, or the sun striking the flesh, as it struck his hands now, will set one's blood tingling and one's life on a fresh course.