Men Travel Faster Now, But

Setting ... Is Accident. Either A Building Is Part Of A Place, Or It Is Not. Once That Kinship Is There, Time Will Only Make It Stronger.

To Note An Artist's Limitations Is But To Define His Talent.

There Is A Popular Superstition That "realism" Asserts Itself In The Cataloguing Of A Great Number Of Material Objects, In Explaining Mechanical Processes, The Methods Of Operating Manufactories And Trades, And In Minutely And Unsparingly Describing Physical Sensations. But Is Not Realism, More Than It Is Anything Else, An Attitude Of Mind On The Part Of The Writer Toward His Material, A Vague Indication Of The Sympathy And Candour With Which He Accepts, Rather Than Chooses, His Theme?

If [the Writer] Achieves Anything Noble, Anything Enduring, It Must Be By Giving Himself Absolutely To His Material. And This Gift Of Sympathy Is His Great Gift; Is The Fine Thing In Him That Alone Can Make His Work Fine.

Beautiful Women, Whose Beauty Meant More Than It Said... Was Their Brilliancy Always Fed By Something Coarse And Concealed? Was That Their Secret?