We were not ‘too proud’ but afraid. Afraid and not ready.
Not ready has no right thing to do with it.
They were not ready at Lexington.
I long with some passion to exchange my two black dresses for two white ones with red crosses on the sleeves: to serve my country in a day of death and honor.
It too is all the time under my skin though I write along but in this flawed song of myself.
[To express me]
To-morrow
I SUPPOSE I’m very lonely.
It is luck—luck from the stars—not to be beset by clusters of people, people who do their thinking outside their heads, ‘cheerful’ people, people who say ‘pardon me’: all the damning sorts scattered about obstructing one’s view of the horizons.