The Novel Does Not Simply

Each Of Us Keeps, Battened Down Inside Himself, A Sort Of Lunatic Giant; Impossible Socially, But Full Scale; And It's The Knockings And Battering We Sometimes Hear In Each Other That Keep Our Banter From Utter Banality.

Habit Is Not Mere Subjugation, It Is A Tender Tie; When One Remembers Habit It Seems To Have Been Happiness.

Art Is For [the Irish] Inseparable From Artifice: Of That, The Theatre Is The Home. Possibly, It Was England Made Me A Novelist.

Mechanical Difficulties With Language Are The Outcome Of Internal Difficulties With Thought.

In Big Houses In Which Things Are Done Properly, There Is Always The Religious Element. The Diurnal Cycle Is Observed With More Feeling When There Are Servants To Do The Work.