Each Time That I Have Run Away

I Am Persuaded That Not A Novel In Ten Thousand Is Of Any Use To A Child To Fit Him For Life. The Most Are Of Use Only To Unfit Him -- To Blunt His Senses And Infect Him With The Writers' Poor Silly Sentiments. Nine Out Of Ten Novelists Deserve To Be Prosecuted Under An Adulterated Emotions Act.

The Impossible Talked Of Is Less Impossible From The Moment Words Are Laid To It.

Writers Sometimes Talk As Though They Were The Only Friends Of Civilization. This Is Their Conceit. But They Have Special Powers To Serve -- Or To Corrupt -- Civilization, And Are Obliged To Use Them.

From So Much Of This Seriously-intended Pornography There Rises, Even When It Is Lewdly Or Boisterously Comic, The Acrid Smell, Unmistakable, Of Self-dislike.

Critics Have Been Amusing Themselves For A Long Time By Auscultating Fiction For Signs Of Heart Failure.