The Fact That We Are Living Does

Perhaps Art Is Simply An Organism's Reaction Against Its Retentive Limitations.

Bad Literature Is A Form Of Treason.

Persecution Mania Is Still Around. In Your Writing, In Your Exchanges With People, Meeting People Who Are In Russian Affairs, Russian Literature, Etcetera.

The Eye Identifies Itself Not With The Body It Belongs To But With The Object Of Its Attention.

It's Rather An Exhilarating Feeling. It's 6 Or 7 When You Get Up And Go Out Into The Fields Wearing Your Wellingtons Or High Boots. You Know That At This Very Hour Half The Nation Does The Same Thing, Which Gives You, With The Benefit Of Hindsight, A Satisfaction In Doing Those Things, Too, A Knowledge, A Sense Of The Nation. I Was A City Boy Until Then.