... to be "literary" appeared to my deluded innocence as an unending romance.
So long as the serpent continues to crawl on the ground, the primary influence of woman will be indirect.
I liked human beings, but I did not love human nature.
Words, like acts, become stale when they are repeated.
Mediocrity would always win by force of numbers, but it would win only more mediocrity.
I revolted from sentimentality, less because it was false than because it was cruel.