... The Ears Of The Hunted Grow

Hurt Vanity Is One Of The Cruelest Of Mortal Wounds.

... The Ears Of The Hunted Grow Even Keener Than A Hunter's.

What Are So Mysterious As The Eyes Of A Child?

The Only Creative Power I Know Is That Of What Might Roughly Be Called 'love'; Not Of Course A Sentimental Love: A Far More Impersonal And Less Individual Emotion. I Sometimes Think That Migratory Birds May Have It For Each Other. They Fly In The Same Direction, And Have Never Been Seen To Interfere With Each Other's Flights.

Life Was A Series Of Messes, And One Spent One's Time Cleaning Them Up; If One Had Any Heart At All One Also Gave A Part Of One's Time To Cleaning Up Those Of Other People.