A Good Novel Cannot Be Too Long

I Hated The Things They Believe In, The Things They So Innocently And Charmingly Pretended. I Hated The Sanctimonious Piety That Let People Hurt Helpless Creatures. I Hated The Prayers And The Hymns - The Fountains And The Red Images That Coloured Their Drab Music, The Fountains Filled With Blood, The Sacrifice Of The Lamb.

One Cannot Lay A Foundation By Scattering Stones, Nor Is A Reputation For Good Work To Be Got By Strewing Volumes About The World.

But Youth Isn't Happy. Youth Is Sadder Than Age.

When This Immediate Evil Power Has Been Defeated, We Shall Not Yet Have Won The Long Battle With The Elemental Barbarities. Another Hitler, It May Be An Invisible Adversary, Will Attempt, Again, And Yet Again, To Destroy Our Frail Civilization. Is It True, I Wonder, That The Only Way To Escape A War Is To Be In It? When One Is A Part Of An Actuality Does The Imagination Find A Release?

It Is Human Nature To Overestimate The Thing You've Never Had.