The Purpose Of Literature Is

All Dash To And Fro In Motor Cars. Familiar With The Roads And Settled Nowhere.

The Progress Of An Artist Is A Continual Self-sacrifice, A Continual Extinction Of Personality.

People Are Only Influenced In The Direction In Which They Want To Go, And Influence Consists Largely In Making Them Conscious Of Their Wishes To Proceed In That Direction.

There's No Vocabulary For Love Within A Family, Love That's Lived In But Not Looked At, Love Within The Light Of Which All Else Is Seen, The Love Within Which All Other Love Finds Speech. This Love Is Silent.

My Mind May Be American But My Heart Is British.