The Civilization Of One Epoch Becomes The

An Author Arrives At A Good Style When His Language Performs What Is Required Of It Without Shyness.

There Is Immunity In Reading, Immunity In Formal Society, In Office Routine, In The Company Of Old Friends And In The Giving Of Officious Help To Strangers, But There Is No Sanctuary In One Bed From The Memory Of Another. The Past With Its Anguish Will Break Through Every Defense-line Of Custom And Habit; We Must Sleep And Therefore We Must Dream.

A Great Writer Created A World Of His Own And His Readers Are Proud To Live In It. A Lesser Writer May Entice Them In For A Moment, But Soon He Will Watch Them Filing Out.

Miserable Orpheus Who, Turning To Lose His Eurydice, Beholds Her For The First Time As Well As The Last.

Greed, Like The Love Of Comfort, Is A Kind Of Fear.