Art Is One Thing That Can Go

Without Fiction, Either Life Would Be Insufficient Or The Winds From The North Would Blow Too Cold.

The Novel Does Not Simply Recount Experience, It Adds To Experience.

There Is No Doubt That Sorrow Brings One Down In The World. The Aristocratic Privilege Of Silence Belongs, You Soon Find Out, To Only The Happy State- Or, At Least, To The State When Pain Keeps Within Bounds.

One Can Live In The Shadow Of An Idea Without Grasping It.

Bring All Your Intelligence To Bear On Your Beginning.