February 6, 1933

What will it be - here I am again at a loss. My scientific work palls. I see names in the Wisconsin summer catalog that were there 12 years ago - old staid professors, now approaching old age, in the self same rut. I want something more than just that. Only one life - perhaps I attach entirely too much significance to fie - [erhaps just the doing is all that is important. In the words of the poem of last night, "Roads," perhaps that is all that is meant, just the marching down the road and that the marching is enuf.

Soon I must find out or go insane with trying--and writing seems the only thing that will do it. When I look over scientific books I weary....What I want is to be able to do something different so that my friends can point me out as one who has ability of a sort and can make his way by his brains alone. I cannot stand mediocrity - I must know that I am being appreciated. Ego, my vanity must be satisfied -- If it is writing then what shall it be -- short essays or sketches, hardly there is no money in that and I must have that - I must do something that pays and pays well....

For me, then, there is only one thing to do, write my thoughts....I know I have thoughts, for 30 years I have done nothing but think. Start writing about anything and see what comes. If it is good enuf it will be worth while. Do not worry about your work, that is necessary and not unpleasant and do not worry about money. If you can find your medium, not matter how humble, you can put up with anything because then life will be worthwhile and will have significance....Write what you feel sincerely and not what you think you ought to say. It is what you feel that will interest others. Be true to yourself.