I Think The Story Is My Form.

Envy Is Never General, But Always Very Particular - At Least Envy Of The Kind One Feels Strongly.

I Am Afraid I Am One Of Those People Who Continues To Read In The Hope Of Sometime Discovering In A Book A Single—and Singular—piece Of Wisdom So Penetrating, So Soul Stirring, So Utterly Applicable To My Own Life As To Make All The Bad Books I Have Read Seem Well Worth The Countless Hours Spent On Them. My Guess Is That This Wisdom, If It Ever Arrives, Will Do So In The Form Of A Generalization.

Someone — Cyril Connolly? Ezra Pound? — Once Said That Anything That Can Be Read Twice Is Literature; I Would Say That Anything That Bears Saying Twice Is Quotable.

In Recompense, Envy May Be The Subtlest - Perhaps I Should Say The Most Insidious - Of The Seven Deadly Sins.

No One Has Really Ever Defined What A Friend Is.