Here Be Dragons To Be Slain, Here

There Is Only One Kind Of Wisdom That Has Any Social Value, And That Is The Knowledge Of One's Own Limitations.

There Is Something About Wills Which Brings Out The Worst Side Of Human Nature. People Who Under Ordinary Circumstances Are Perfectly Upright And Amiable, Go As Curly As Corkscrews And Foam At The Mouth, Whenever They Hear The Words 'i Devise And Bequeath.

Fantasy Works Inwards Upon Its Author, Blurring The Boundary Between The Visioned And The Actual, And Associating Itself Ever Moreclosely With The Ego, So That The Child Who Has Fantasied Himself A Murderer Ends By Becoming A Loeb Or A Leopold. The Creative Imagination Works Outwards, Steadily Increasing The Gap Between The Visioned And The Actual, Till This Becomes The Great Gulf Fixed Between Art And Nature. Few Writers Of Crime-stories Become Murderers--if Any Do, It Is Not The Result Of Identifying Themselves With Their Murderous Heroes.

The Heaviest Restriction Upon The Freedom Of Public Opinion Is Not The Official Censorship Of The Press, But The Unofficial Censorship By A Press Which Exists Not So Much To Express Opinion As To Manufacture It.

The Making Of Miracles To Edification Was As Ardently Admired By Pious Victorians As It Was Sternly Discouraged By Jesus Of Nazareth. Not That The Victorians Were Unique In This Respect. Modern Writers Also Indulge In Edifying Miracles Though They Generally Prefer To Use Them To Procure Unhappy Endings, By Which Piece Of Thaumaturgy They Win The Title Of Realists.