Art Without Life Is A Poor Affair.

England Always Seems To Me Like A Man Swimming With His Clothes On His Head.

Instead Of Leading To The High Places Of Happiness, From Which The World Would Seem To Lie Below One, So That One Could Look Down With A Sense Of Exaltation And Advantage, And Judge And Choose And Pity, It Led Rather Downward And Earthward, Into Realms Of Restriction And Depression, Where The Sound Of Other Lives, Easier And Freer, Was Heard As From Above, And Served To Deepen The Feeling Of Failure.

He Was There Or Was Not There: Not There If I Didn't See Him.

She Had An Immense Curiosity About Life, And Was Constantly Staring And Wondering.

Until You Try, You Don't Know What You Can't Do.