The Novel Does Not Simply Recount Experience,

Writers Do Not Find Subjects: Subjects Find Them. There Is Not So Much A Search As A State Of Open Susceptibility.

In Big Houses In Which Things Are Done Properly, There Is Always The Religious Element. The Diurnal Cycle Is Observed With More Feeling When There Are Servants To Do The Work.

Each Of Us Keeps, Battened Down Inside Himself, A Sort Of Lunatic Giant; Impossible Socially, But Full Scale; And It's The Knockings And Battering We Sometimes Hear In Each Other That Keep Our Banter From Utter Banality.

Jealousy Is No More Than Feeling Alone Against Smiling Enemies.

People In Love, In Whom Every Sense Is Open, Cannot Beat Off The Influence Of A Place.