In a family, the same spoken lines come in over and over. Intimacy exhausts.

When anything gets freed, a zest goes round the world.

First publication is a pure, carnal leap into that dark which one dreams is life.

Decades go faster toward the end of a century.

Agony without genius was gaucherie.

But the trek that starts with the feet always rises in time to the head. There had never been any of mankind's that didn't.

I don't suppose there's really any critic except posterity.