As Between Mileage And Experience Choose Experience.

To Take Wine Into Your Mouth Is To Savor A Droplet Of The River Of Human History.

The Adjective Is The Banana Peel Of The Parts Of Speech.

To Divide One's Life By Years Is Of Course To Tumble Into A Trap Set By Our Own Arithmetic. The Calendar Consents To Carry On Its Dull Wall-existence By The Arbitrary Timetables We Have Drawn Up In Consultation With Those Permanent Commuters, Earth And Sun. But We, Unlike Trees, Need Grow No Annual Rings.

There Is No Reader So Parochial As The One Who Reads None But This Morning's Books. Books Are Not Rolls, To Be Devoured Only When They Are Hot And Fresh. A Good Book Retains Its Interior Heat And Will Warm A Generation Yet Unborn.

Seriously, I Do Not Know What To Say Of This Book [ Absalom, Absalom!] Except That It Seem To Point To The Final Blowup Of What Was Once A Remarkable, If Minor, Talent… This Is A Penny Dreadful Tricked Up In Fancy Language And Given A Specious Depth By The Expert Manipulation Of A Series Of Eccentric Technical Tricks. The Characters Have No Magnitude And No Meaning Because They Have No More Reality Than A Mince-pie Nightmare.