Nothing Creates Such Untruth In You As

At First, There Is Something You Expect Of Life. Later, There Is What Life Expects Of You. By The Time You Realize These Are The Same, It Can Be Too Late For Expectations. What We Are Being, Not What We Are To Be. They Are The Same Thing.

Great Literature Is Like Moral Leadership; Everyone Deplores The Lack Of It, But There Is A Tendency To Prefer It From The Safely Dead.

In The Circle Where I Was Raised, I Knew Of No One Knowledgeable In The Visual Arts, No One Who Regularly Attended Musical Performances, And Only Two Adults Other Than My Teachers Who Spoke Without Embarrassment Of Poetry And Literature — Both Of These Being Women. As Far As I Can Recall, I Never Heard A Man Refer To A Good Or A Great Book. I Knew No One Who Had Mastered, Or Even Studied, Another Language From Choice. And Our Articulate, Conscious Life Proceeded Without Acknowledgement Of The Preceding Civilisations Which Had Produced It.

It's Nervous Work. The State You Need To Write In Is The State That Others Are Paying Large Sums Of Money To Get Rid Of.

One Would Always Want To Think Of Oneself As Being On The Side Of Love, Ready To Recognize It And Wish It Well -but, When Confronted With It In Others, One So Often Resented It, Questioned Its True Nature, Secretly Dismissed The Particular Instance As Folly Or Promiscuity. Was It Merely Jealousy, Or A Reluctance To Admit So Noble And Enviable A Sentiment In Anyone But Oneself?