[dawn] Is Always Such A Forgiving Time.

One January Day, Thirty Years Ago, The Little Town Of Hanover, Anchored On A Windy Nebraska Tableland, Was Trying Not To Be Blown Away.

Nearly All The Escapists In The Long Past Have Managed Their Own Budget And Their Social Relations So Unsuccessfully That I Wouldn't Want Them For My Landlords, Or My Bankers, Or My Neighbors. They Were Valuable, Like Powerful Stimulants, Only When They Were Left Out Of The Social And Industrial Routine.

Every Artist Makes Himself Born. It Is Very Much Harder Than The Other Time, And Longer.

If You Love The Good Thing Vitally, Enough To Give Up For It All That One Must Give Up, Then You Must Hate The Cheap Thing Just As Hard. I Tell You, There Is Such A Thing As Creative Hate! “a Contempt That Drives You Through Fire, Makes You Risk Everything And Lose Everything, Makes You A Long Sight Better Than You Ever Knew You Could Be.

Late One Brilliant April Afternoon Professor Lucius Wilson Stood At The Head Of Chestnut Street, Looking About Him With The Pleased Air Of A Man Of Taste Who Does Not Very Often Get To Boston.