The only reason for the existence of a novel is that it does attempt to represent life.
Be generous, be delicate, and always pursue the prize.
Which of you with taking thought can add to his stature one cubit?
One doesn't defend one's god: one's god is in himself a defense.
Deep experience is never peaceful.
A solitary maple on a woodside flames in single scarlet, recalls nothing so much as the daughter of a noble house dressed for a fancy ball, with the whole family gathered around to admire her before she goes.