Let Your Fiction Grow Out Of The

Only The Stupid And The Phlegmatic Should Teach.

There Is Something Frank And Joyous And Young In The Open Face Of The Country. It Gives Itself Ungrudgingly To The Moods Of The Season, Holding Nothing Back.

When We Look Back, The Only Things We Cherish Are Those Which In Some Way Met Our Original Want; The Desire Which Formed In Us In Early Youth, Undirected, And Of Its Own Accord.

Too Much Detail Is Apt, Like Any Other Form Of Extravagance, To Become Slightly Vulgar.

It Takes A Great Deal Of Experience To Become Natural.