...the Tourist Venice Is Venice.

I Was Going To Get Myself Recognized At Any Price. If I Could Not Win Fame By Goodness, I Was Ready To Do It By Badness.

For Both Writer And Reader, The Novel Is A Lonely, Physically Inactive Affair. Only The Imagination Races.

The Exile Is A Singular, Whereas Refugees Tend To Be Thought Of In The Mass ... What Is Implied In These Nuances Of Social Standing Is The Respect We Pay To Choice. The Exile Appears To Have Made A Decision, While The Refugee Is The Very Image Of Helplessness.

You Can Date The Evolving Life Of A Mind, Like The Age Of A Tree, By The Rings Of Friendship Formed By The Expanding Central Trunk.

Scratch A Socialist And You Find A Snob.