Writing Is Above All A

One Passes Through The World Knowing Few, If Any, Of The Important Things About Even The People With Whom One Has Been From Time To Time In The Closest Intimacy.

Self-pity Is Essentially Humorless, Devoid Of That Lightness Of Touch Which Gives Understanding Of Life.

He Fell In Love With Himself At First Sight And It Is A Passion To Which He Has Always Remained Faithful. Selflove Seems So Often Unrequited.

Literature Illuminates Life Only For Those To Whom Books Are A Necessity.

For Reasons Not Always At The Time Explicable, There Are Specific Occasions When Events Begin Suddenly To Take On A Significance Previously Unsuspected, So That, Before We Really Know Where We Are, Life Seems To Have Begun In Earnest At Last, And We Ourselves, Scarcely Aware That Any Change Has Taken Place, Are Careering Uncontrollably Down The Slippery Avenues Of Eternity.