As For Literature It Gives No Man

Where The Dead Walked And The Living Were Made Of Cardboard.

Better Mendacities Than The Classics In Paraphrase! Some Quick To Arm, Some For Adventure, Some From Fear Of Weakness, Some From Fear Of Censure, Some For Love Of Slaughter, In Imagination, Learning Later . . . Some In Fear, Learning Love Of Slaughter; Died Some, Pro Patria, Non "dulce" Non "et Decor" . Walked Eye-deep In Hell Believing In Old Men's Lies, The Unbelieving Came Home, Home To A Lie.

The Secret Of Popular Writing Is Never To Put More On A Given Page Than The Common Reader Can Lap Off It With No Strain Whatsoever On His Habitually Slack Attention.

It Is Difficult To Write A Paradiso When All The Superficial Indications Are That You Ought To Write An Apocalypse.

And The Days Are Not Full Enough And The Nights Are Not Full Enough And Life Slips By Like A Field Mouse Not Shaking The Grass