Every Phrase And Every Sentence Is An

Moving Between The Legs Of Tables And Of Chairs, Rising Or Falling, Grasping At Kisses And Toys, Advancing Boldly, Sudden To Take Alarm, Retreating To The Corner Of Arm And Knee, Eager To Be Reassured, Taking Pleasure In The Fragrant Brilliance Of The Christmas Tree.

Our High Respect For A Well Read Person Is Praise Enough For Literature.

The Greatness Of Literature Cannot Be Determined Solely By Literary Standards Though We Must Remember That Whether It Is Literature Or Not Can Be Determined Only By Literary Standards.

Someone Said, 'the Dead Writers Are Remote From Us Because We Know So Much More Than They Did.' Precisely, And They Are That Which We Know.

The Hint Half Guessed, The Gift Half Understood, Is Incarnation. Here The Impossible Union Of Spheres Of Existence Is Actual. Here The Past And Future Are Conquered And Reconciled.