Writers Should Be Read, But Neither Seen

Looking From The Window At The Fantastic Light And Colour Of My Glittering Fairy-world Of Fact That Holds No Tenderness, No Quietude, I Long Suddenly For Peace, For Understanding.

Last Night I Dreamt I Went To Manderley Again.

She Knew That This Was Happiness, This Was Living As She Had Always Wished To Live.

Once A Person Gave His Talent To The World, The World Put A Stamp Upon It. The Talent Was Not A Personal Possession Any More. It Was Something To Be Traded, Bought And Sold. It Fetched A High Price, Or A Low One. It Was Kicked In The Common Market.

A Dreamer, I Walked Enchanted, And Nothing Held Me Back.