...I have an impulse - more of an old urban reflex than an impulse, thank God - to say something mildly caustic about the twenty-four young ladies, just back from big weekends at Cambridge or Hanover or New Haven, who will be waiting for me in Room 307, but I can't finish writing a description of Seymour - even a bad description, even one where my ego, my perpetual lust to share top billing with him, is all over the place - without being conscious of the good, the real. This is too grand to be said (so I'm just the man to say it), but I can't be my brother's brother for nothing, and I know - not always, but I know - there is no single thing I do that is more important than going into that awful Room 307. There isn't one girl in there, including the Terrible Miss Zabel, who is not as much my sister as Boo Boo or Franny. They may shine with the misinformation of the ages, but they shine. This thought manages to stun me: There's no place I'd really rather go right now than into Room 307. Seymour once said that all we do our whole lives is go from one little piece of Holy Ground to the next. Is he never wrong?

Just go to bed, now. Quickly. Quickly and slowly...

Buddy Glass as written by JD Salinger in the final paragraph of: Seymour an Introduction.

this monday night, preparing to begin another week in los guido, i'm thinking of how the tutoring center is my very own room 307. i too share in that old urban reflex - finding myself entertaining caustic thoughts about those precious children and that beautifully difficult place. but, as is said, i know, i simply know, there is nothing i do more important than entering into that tutoring center everyday. and really, there is no where else i would rather be than occupying that tiny little piece of Holy Ground. this is truth. and it is good to be reminded.

and now, i shall just go to bed. Quickly. Quickly and slowly.