Love Doesn't Grow At A

He Who Hesitates Is Not Only Lost, But Miles From The Next Exit.

I Was The Basest Of Readers. All I Wanted Was My Own World, And Myself In It, Given Back To Me In Artful Shapes And Accessible Form.

He's Never Quite Got The Trick Of Conversation, Tending To Hear In Dissenting Views, However Mild, A Kind Of Affront, An Invitation To Mortal Combat.

No One Knew About The Squirrel’s Skull Beneath Briony Bed, But No One Wanted To Know.

For The Professors In The Academy, For The Humanities Generally, Misery Is More Amenable To Analysis: Happiness Is A Harder Nut To Crack.