When I would never talk to that person about boa constrictors, or primeval forests, or stars. I would bring myself down to his level.
So I lived my life alone, without anyone that I could really talk to, until I had an accident with my plane in the Desert of Sahara.
And as I had with me neither a mechanic nor any passengers, I set myself to attempt the difficult repairs all alone..
The first night, then, I went to sleep on the sand, a thousand miles from any human habitation.
I jumped to my feet, completely thunderstruck. I blinked my eyes hard. I looked carefully all around me.
Here you may see the best portrait that, later, I was able to make of him. But my drawing is certainly very much less charming than its model.
That, however, is not my fault. The grown-ups discouraged me in my painter's career when I was six years old.
When a mystery is too overpowering, one dare not disobey. Absurd as it might seem to me, a thousand miles from any human habitation and in danger of death, I took out of my pocket a sheet of paper and my fountain-pen.
My friend smiled gently and indulgently.
And I threw out an explanation with it.
When I would never talk to that person about boa constrictors, or primeval forests, or stars.
In certain more important details I shall make mistakes, also.
Now there were some terrible seeds on the planet that was the home.
In consequence, there were good seeds from good plants, and bad seeds from bad plants.