It Is Easy To Pity When Once

No Nation Has Ever Produced Great Art That Has Not Made A High Art Of Cookery, Because Art Appeals Primarily To The Senses.

One Cannot Divine Nor Forecast The Conditions That Will Make Happiness; One Only Stumbles Upon Them By Chance, In A Lucky Hour, At The World's End Somewhere, And Hold Fast To The Days.

William Tavener Never Heeded Ominous Forecasts In The Domestic Horizon, And He Never Looked For A Storm Until It Broke.

The Great Pines Stand At A Considerable Distance From Each Other. Each Tree Grows Alone, Murmurs Alone, Thinks Alone. They Do Notintrude Upon Each Other. The Navajos Are Not Much In The Habit Of Giving Or Of Asking Help. Their Language Is Not A Communicative One, And They Never Attempt An Interchange Of Personality In Speech. Over Their Forests There Is The Same Inexorable Reserve. Each Tree Has Its Exalted Power To Bear.

I Don't Want Anyone Reading My Writing To Think About Style. I Just Want Them To Be In The Story.