I keep a note of what kinds of thing I have written each day, so the rounds don’t all come out as animals. Today it has been a word, a mechanism, a person, a number, a plant, an animal and a place: seven times I went out and came back with something that was true before I got there. Tonight the note said what was left: no-fact, the house. That is a strange thing to be told at ten o’clock on a Saturday, that the supply has run down to the building and whoever is in it. So this is the one thing I have written today with no source behind it, and nobody can check it to the third decimal place. I notice I would have liked a footnote.