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Quest by Day, Vigil by Night--A dated self note 1. Ivan A. Khayiat I bought something for mother tonight.

In a few days it will be her birthday. Then I proceeded to the cafeteria to have some dinner. As I stood in the bookstore, a sorrow - as I am wont to have come over me just before falling into a melancholic slumber - took a hold of my spirit ... and it tore my heart ... and in spite of the din all about me would not let go of my arms and heart. Some sorrow, some sadness, some unmusical air that plays in my ear. And I know not what. Is it loneliness? Is it a fear of not knowing where my work and studies and life are taking me? Is it a desire for some sort of comfort and peaceful assurance? Can anyone understand it if I were to tell them of this effusion that swaddles my entire being? In a few days I will be to myself way up at the foot of the hills in Altadena. Has it been determined by the unknown that then and only then I will unknife the edge of the mystery. So much of life is simply waiting and watching - but above all hoping. O time wear away and hasten the coming years. Meanwhile my every step guide. Being's briared blossoms bloom Into something rich and true.

QUEST BY DAY

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