How Often My Soul Visits The National

How Often My Soul Visits The National Gallery, And How Seldom

Fine Writers Should Split Hairs Together, And Sit Side By Side, Like Friendly Apes, To Pick The Fleas From Each Others Fur.

Those Who Set Out To Serve Both God And Mammon Soon Discover That There Isn't A God.

Every Author, However Modest, Keeps A Most Outrageous Vanity Chained Like A Madman In The Padded Cell Of His Breast.

The Word Snob Belongs To The Sour-grape Vocabulary.