I Would Have Stage-fright If I Had

Let My Style Capture All The Sounds Of My Time. This Should Make It An Annoyance To My Contemporaries. But Later Generations Should Hold It To Their Ears Like A Seashell In Which There Is The Music Of An Ocean Of Mud.

Many Desire To Kill Me, And Many Wish To Spend An Hour Chatting With Me. The Law Protects Me From The Former.

In A Well-run Mental Household There Ought To Be A Thorough Cleaning At The Threshold Of Consciousness A Few Times A Year.

My Readers Think That I Write For The Day Because My Writings Are Based On The Day. So I Shall Have To Wait Until My Writings Are Obsolete. Then They May Acquire Timeliness.

Most People Only Do What They Are Asked To Do; Success Comes To Those Who Do A Little More.