The Candle-buds Opened Their Wide White Flowers....their

I Hope My Books Make Statements About Our General Condition.

The Writer Probably Knows What He Meant When He Wrote A Book, But He Should Immediately Forget What He Meant When He's Written It.

How Can You Expect To Be Rescued If You Don’t Put First Things First And Act Proper?

The Man Who Tells The Tale If He Has A Tale Worth Telling Will Know Exactly What He Is About And This Business Of The Artist As A Sort Of Starry-eyed Inspired Creature, Dancing Along, With His Feet Two Or Three Feet Above The Surface Of The Earth, Not Really Knowing What Sort Of Prints He's Leaving Behind Him, Is Nothing Like The Truth.

Life Should Serve Up Its Feast Of Experience In A Series Of Courses.