where the dead walked and the living were made of cardboard.
The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Petals on a wet black bough.
Artists are the antennae of the race.
America, my country, is almost a continent and hardly yet a nation.
With Usura With usura hath no man a house of good stone each block cut smooth and well fitting.
There are few things more difficult than to appraise the work of a man suddenly dead in his youth; to disentangle promise from achievement; to save him from that sentimentalizing which confuses the tragedy of the interruption with the merit of the work actually performed.