The winter will be long and bleak. Nature has a dismal aspect.
Literature is the expression of society.
After owning books, almost the next best thing is talking about them.
Such days of autumnal decline hold a strange mystery which adds to the gravity of all our moods.
Our years, our debts, and our enemies are always more numerous than we imagine.
If you are alone, tell some stories to yourself. This is a different kind of pleasure and it has, indeed, its reward. I have tasted a little of everything, and I have truly never enjoyed anything more.