My First Reading Of Tolstoy Affected Me

The Only Difference Between A Rut And A Grave Are The Dimensions.

But Youth Isn't Happy. Youth Is Sadder Than Age.

The Transcendental Point Of View, The Habit Of Thought Bred By Communion With Earth And Sky, Had Refined The Grain While It Had Roughened The Husk.

What I Hated Even More Than The Conflict Was The Lurid Spectacle Of A World Of Unreason.

Apart From Letters, It Is The Vulgar Custom Of The Moment To Deride The Thinkers Of The Victorian And Edwardian Eras; Yet There Has Not Been, In All History, Another Agewhen So Much Sheer Mental Energy Was Directed Toward Creating A Fairer Social Order.