The Profession Of The Writer Has Its

Life Deserves Laughter, Hence People Laugh At It.

If The Infinity Of The Sea May Call Out Thus, Perhaps When A Man Is Growing Old, Calls Come To Him, Too, From Another Infinity Still Darker And More Deeply Mysterious; And The More He Is Wearied By Life The Dearer Are Those Calls To Him.

The Fact Is That Between The Classes There Is A Vast Gulf That Precludes All Mutual Understanding, And Makes Simultaneous Efforts Simply Impossible.

Amid The Stillness Of The Night, In The Depths Of The Ravine, From The Direction In Which The Corpses Lay Suddenly Resounded A Kind Of Inhuman, Frightful Laughter In Which Quivered Despair, And Joy, And Cruelty, And Suffering, And Pain, And Sobbing, And Derision; The Heart-rending And Spasmodic Laughter Of The Insane Or Condemned.

England Is Never In A Hurry Because She Is Eternal.