Conscience Represents A Fetich To Which Good

... The Novel, As A Living Force, If Not As A Work Of Art, Owes An Incalculable Debt To What We Call, Mistakenly, The New Psychology, To Freud, In His Earlier Interpretations, And More Truly, I Think, To Jung.

She Must Face Her Grief Where The Struggle Is Always Hardest-in The Place Where Each Trivial Object Is Attended By Pleasant Memories.

What I Hated Even More Than The Conflict Was The Lurid Spectacle Of A World Of Unreason.

My First Reading Of Tolstoy Affected Me As A Revelation From Heaven, As The Trumpet Of The Judgment. What He Made Me Feel Was Notthe Desire To Imitate, But The Conviction That Imitation Was Futile.

I Have Watchedmany Literary Fashions Shoot Up And Blossom, And Then Fade And Drop.... Yet With The Many That I Have Seen Comeand Go, I Have Never Yet Encountered A Mode Of Thinking That Regarded Itself As Simply A Changing Fashion, And Not As An Infallible Approach To The Right Culture.