Sincerity is attained at the expense of prudence and “wisdom”
Now (midnight) the roofs are all covered with frost, tall white smoke goes up from one chimney into the vast moonlit sky; even shadows are silvery — the silence is profound — What a wonderful thing that an expected season never fails us — this midwinter Spring, so fleeting and elusive that we fear another year will not bring it — yet it always comes.
This noon and letter from Jim, who is at Oberlin, was waiting for me on the Library table. I will give it here in full for it is worth it.
A period of depression is again come over me—I know of no manner how I could possibly be interesting to anyone.
Feeling at loose ends today I decided to tackle the storm windows a job I dread. But I enjoyed it; physical effort is what I needed.
A Spring like day – There is the inexpressible haunting feeling in today that belongs to Spring; the soul is torn between sweet reverie & unknown desires – the wanderlust is born on such days...
"... the air burst open for joy in the sunlight. Think of dandelions bursting in jagged yellow flames on the sunny hillsides on a hazy November day!"
These cold white moonlight nights (last night I proved the old saying: “moonlight bright enough to read a book by”)
From Friday to little after 2:00 until this evening a period of shock and unbelief, the mind seemed to stop – it was as if it (the mind) refused to accept the catastrophe – It still is hard to grasp, and to realize it really has happened. One commentator put it well – he said that with the death of President Kennedy, a part of each of us, has died. I think this is true.
One mental picture I have of him that keeps coming again and again, is his roguish grin, as he would parry an indiscreet question during a news conference.
It is the morning after Thanksgiving – I am again walking...