Love Compels Cruelty To Those Who Do

I Confess . . . That I Am Not Myself Very Much Concerned With The Question Of Influence, Or With Those Publicists Who Have Impressed Their Names Upon The Public By Catching The Morning Tide And Rowing Very Vast In The Direction In Which The Current Was Flowing; But Rather That There Should Always Be A Few Writers Preoccupied In Penetrating To The Core Of The Matter, In Trying To Arrive At The Truth And To Set It Forth, Without Too Much Hope, Without Ambition To Alter The Immediate Course Of Affairs, And Without Being Downcast Or Defeated When Nothing Appears To Ensue.

All Cases Are Unique And Very Similar To Others.

I Have Measured Out My Life With Coffee Spoons.

The Church Must Be Forever Building, For It Is Forever Decaying Within And Attacked From Without.

The Purpose Of Literature Is To Turn Blood Into Ink.