All this is inconsecutive and indeterminate because I am trying to write shorthand about an endless subject--and moreover am unresolved as to any ultimate conviction. I am not fancying I am “enlightening” you about anything,--nor, if I thought I were merely exposing personal sores, would I continue to be so monotonous. Emotionally I should like to write _The Bridge_; intellectually judged the whole theme and project seems more and more absurd. A fear of personal impotence in this matter wouldn’t affect me half so much as the convictions that arise from other sources.... I had what I thought were authentic materials that would have been a pleasurable-agony of wrestling, eventuating or not in perfection--at least being worthy of the most supreme efforts I could muster. These “materials” were valid to me to the extent that I presumed them to be (articulate or not) at least organic and active factors in the experience and perceptions of our common race, time and belief. The very idea of a bridge, of course, is a form peculiarly dependent on such spiritual convictions. It is an act of faith besides being a communication. The symbols of reality necessary to articulate the span--may not exist where you expected them, however. By which I mean that however great their subjective significance to me is concerned--these forms, materials, dynamics are simply non-existent in the world. I may amuse and delight and flatter myself as much as I please--but I am only evading a recognition and playing Don Quixote in an immorally conscious way.