Literary Men Are . . . A

We Have Woven A Web, You And I, Attached To This World But A Separate World Of Our Own Invention.

The Excellence Of Every Art Is Its Intensity.

That Queen Of Secrecy, The Violet.

Though A Quarrel In The Streets Is A Thing To Be Hated, The Energies Displayed In It Are Fine; The Commonest Man Shows A Grace In His Quarrel.

Praise Or Blame Has But A Momentary Effect On The Man Whose Love Of Beauty In The Abstract Makes Him A Severe Critic On His Own Works.