If It's To Be, It's Up To

The Lusts And Greeds Of The Body Scandalize The Soul; But It Has To Come To Heel.

Only Among People Who Think No Evil Can Evil Monstrously Flourish.

How Often My Soul Visits The National Gallery, And How Seldom

So, I Never Lose A Sense Of The Whimsical And Perilous Charm Of Daily Life, With Its Meetings And Words And Accidents.

This Nice And Subtle Happiness Of Reading, This Joy Not Chilled By Age, This Polite And Unpunished Vice, This Selfish, Serene Life-long Intoxication.