Passage 1

　　Another cause of obscurity is that the writer is not himself quite sure of his meaning. He has a vague impression of what he wants to say, but has not, either from lack of mental power or from laziness, exactly formulated It in his mind and it is natural enough that he can not find a precise expression for a confused idea. This is due largely to the fact that many writers think, not before, as they write. The pen originates the thought. The disadvantage of this-- and indeed it is a danger against which the author must be always on his guard--is that there is a sort of magic in the written word. The idea acquires substance by taking on a visible nature, and then stands in the way of its own clarification.

　　Passage 2

　　September is more than a month, really; it is a season, an achievement in itself. It begins with August's leftovers and it ends with October's preparations, but along the way it achieves special satisfactions. After summer's heat and haste, the year consolidates itself. Deliberate September--in its own time and tempo -- begins to sum up another summer.

　　We think of spring as the miracle time, when opening bud and new leaf proclaim the persistence of life. But September is when the abiding wonder makes itself known in a subtler way. Now growth comes to annual fruition and preparations are completed for another year, another generation. The acorn ripens and the hickory nut matures.

　　The plant commits its future to the seed and the root. The insect stows tomorrow in the egg and the pupa. The surge is almost over and life begins to relax.