Parks Are But Pavement Disguised With A

Perhaps It Is While Drinking Tea That I Most Of All Enjoy The Sense Of Leisure.

The Truths Of Life Are Not Discovered By Us. At Moments Unforeseen, Some Gracious Influence Descends Upon The Soul, Touching It To An Emotion Which, We Know Not How, The Mind Transmutes Into Thought.

Flippancy, The Most Hopeless Form Of Intellectual Vice.

People Have Got That Ancient Prejudice So Firmly Rooted In Their Heads That One Mustn't Write Save At I The Dictation Of The Holy Spirit. I Tell You, Writing Is A Business.

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.