Writing is conscience, scruple, and the farming of our ancestors.

Narcissus never wrote well nor was a friend.

One cat in a house is a sign of loneliness.

I would rather take hellebore than spend a conversation with a good, little man.

There is a strange and mighty race of people called the Americans who are rapidly becoming the coldest in the world because of this cruel, man-eating idol, lucre.

I have no confidence in a man whose faults you cannot see.

Man is at the nadir of his stregth when the Earth, the seas, the mountains are not in him, for without them his soul is unsourced, and he has no images by which to abide.