To live in the world of creation-to get into it and stay in it-to frequent it and haunt it...to think intently and fruitfully, to woo combinations and inspirations into being by a depth and continuity of attention and meditation-this is the only thing.

I hold any writer sufficiently justified who is himself in love with his theme.

To believe in a child is to believe in the Future.

Ideas are, in truth, force.

Life being all inclusion and confusion, and art being all discrimination and selection, the latter, in search of the hard latent value with which it alone is concerned, sniffs round the mass as instinctively and unerringly as a dog suspicious of some buried bone.

It takes an endless amount of history to make even a little tradition.

Summer afternoon, summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.