Fashion Seems To Exist For An Abstract

When I Read A Story, I Relive The Moment From Which It Sprang. A Scene Burned Itself Into Me, A Building Magnetized Me, A Mood Orseason Of Nature's Penetrated Me, History Suddenly Appeared To Me In Some Tiny Act, Or A Face Had Begun To Haunt Me Before I Glanced At It.

Solitary And Farouche People Don't Have Relationships; They Are Quite Unrelatable. If You And I Were Capable Of Being Altogether House-trained And Made Jolly, We Should Be Nicer People, But Not Writers.

To Walk Into History Is To Be Free At Once, To Be At Large Among People.

There Is No Doubt That Sorrow Brings One Down In The World. The Aristocratic Privilege Of Silence Belongs, You Soon Find Out, To Only The Happy State- Or, At Least, To The State When Pain Keeps Within Bounds.

A Novel Which Survives, Which Withstands And Outlives Time, Does Do Something More Than Merely Survive. It Does Not Stand Still. It Accumulates Round Itself The Understanding Of All These Persons Who Bring To It Something Of Their Own. It Acquires Associations, It Becomes A Form Of Experience In Itself, So That Two People Who Meet Can Often Make Friends, Find An Approach To Each Other, Because Of This One Great Common Experience They Have Had.