London Is A Huge Shop, With A

How I Envy Those Clerks Who Go By To Their Offices In The Morning! There's The Day's Work Cut Out For Them; No Question Of Mood And Feeling; They Have Just To Work At Something, And When The Evening Comes, They Have Earned Their Wages, And They Are Free To Rest And Enjoy Themselves. What An Insane Thing It Is To Make Literature One's Only Means Of Support! When The Most Trivial Accident May At Any Time Prove Fatal To One's Power Of Work For Weeks Or Months. No, That Is The Unpardonable Sin! To Make A Trade Of An Art! I Am Rightly Served For Attempting Such A Brutal Folly.

Literature Nowadays Is A Trade... The Successful Man Of Letters Is Your Skilful Tradesman. He Thinks First And Foremost Of The Markets.

Life, I Fancy, Would Very Often Be Insupportable, But For The Luxury Of Self Compassion.

It Is The Mind Which Creates The World Around Us, And Even Though We Stand Side By Side In The Same Meadow, My Eyes Will Never See What Is Beheld By Yours, My Heart Will Never Stir To The Emotions With Which Yours Is Touched.

Flippancy, The Most Hopeless Form Of Intellectual Vice.