I Met God. 'what,' He Said, 'you

Women Are Strangers In The Country Of Man.

We Live On The Circumference Of A Hollow Circle. We Draw The Circumference, Like Spiders, Out Of Ourselves: It Is All Criticism Of Criticism.

Nature Is What You Don't Have To Trouble About. It Looks After Itself.

There Can Be No Literary Equivalent To Truth.

Metaphor Is, As A Common Feature Of Linguistic Practice, An Incidental Expediency, A Homely Administering Of First-aid By Mother-wit To Jams Or Halts In Expression Suddenly Confronting Speakers, With No Respectable Linguistic Solution Immediately In Sight.