History, Which Interprets The Past To Understand

We Are Often More Merciful To Our Animals Than We Are To Each Other.

It Was One Of Those Perfect English Autumnal Days Which Occur More Frequently In Memory Than In Life.

Charm Is Often Despised But I Can Never See Why. No One Has It Who Isn't Capable Of Genuinely Liking Others, At Least At The Actual Moment Of Meeting And Speaking. Charm Is Always Genuine; It May Be Superficial But It Isn't False.

Murder Is The Unique Crime, The Only One For Which We Can Never Make Reparation To The Victim.

I Don't See Why Escapist Literature Shouldn't Also Be A Work Of Art.