Angry, And Half In Love With Her,

I Learned A Little Of Beauty - Enough To Know That It Had Nothing To Do With Truth - And I Found, Moreover, That There Was No Great Literary Tradition; There Was Only The Tradition Of The Eventful Death Of Every Literary Tradition.

Unloved Women Have No Biographies-- They Have Histories

Americans, While Occasionally Willing To Be Serfs, Have Always Been Obstinate About Being Peasantry.

What Do You Think Of That? It’s Stopped Raining." I’m Glad Jay." Her Throat, Full Of Aching, Grieving Beauty, Told Only Of Her Unexpected Joy.

I Am Not A Great Man, But Sometimes I Think The Impersonal And Objective Equality Of My Talent And The Sacrifices Of It, In Pieces, To Preserve Its Essential Value Has Some Sort Of Epic Grandeur.