William Packard Surely Must Be

What A View, I Said Again. The River Was Blank And Mindless With Beauty. It Was The Most Glorious Thing I Have Ever Seen. But It Was Not Seeing, Really. For Once It Was Not Just Seeing. It Was Beholding. I Beheld The River In Its Icy Pit Of Brightness, In Its Far-below Sound And Indifference, In Its Large Coil And Tiny Points And Flashes Of The Moon, In Its Long Sinuous Form, In Its Uncomprehending Consequence.

The Women Of The South Have Brought Into American Literature A Unique Mixture Of Domesticity And Grotesquerie.

Detachment Produces A Peculiar State Of Mind. Maybe That's The Worst Sentence Of All, To Be Deprived Of Feeling What A Human Being Ought To Be Entitled To Feel.

I Don’t Believe That A Reviewer Or A Critic Can Really Criticize Well Unless He Can Praise Well.

I Once Had The Nerve To Ask Picasso The Question, 'what Is Art?' He Answered, 'art Is A Lie Which Makes Us See The Truth.