In Violence, We Forget Who We Are

The Rationalist Mind Has Always Had Its Doubts About Venice. The Watery City Receives A Dry Inspection, As Though It Were A Myth For The Credulous- Poets And Honeymooners.

The Suspense In A Novel Is Not Only In The Reader, But In The Novelist Himself, Who Is Intensely Curious Too About What Will Happen To The Hero.

Old Money Is Fully As Moronic As New Money But It Has Inherited An Appearance Of Cultivation.

As Soon As You Become A Writer, You Lose Contact With Ordinary Experience Or Tend To. ... The Worst Fate Of A Writer Is To Become A Writer.

It [socialism] Was A Kind Of Political Hockey Played By Big, Gaunt, Dyspeptic Girls In Pants.