The Artist Secretes Nostalgia Around Life.

In My Religion, There Would Be No Exclusive Doctrine; All Would Be Love, Poetry, And Doubt.

If Our Elaborate And Dominating Bodies Are Given Us To Be Denied At Every Turn, If Our Nature Is Always Wrong And Wicked, How Ineffectual We Are; Like Fishes Not Meant To Swim.

Green Leaves On A Dead Tree Is Our Epitaph-green Leaves, Dear Reader, On A Dead Tree.

There Are Only Three Things Which Make Life Worth Living: To Be Writing A Tolerably Good Book, To Be In A Dinner Party Of Six, And To Be Traveling South With Someone Whom Your Conscience Permits You To Love.

M Is For Marx And Clashing Of Classes And Movement Of Masses And Massing Of Asses.