The sweet air coming into your house on a fine day, from water etched with waves as formal as the scales on a fish.
A man is a writer if all his words are strung in definite sentence sounds.
Impatience is the mark of independence, not of bondage.
A writer is unfair to himself when he is unable to be hard on himself.
Your thorns are the best part of you.
There is no pleasure subtler than the sensation of being a good workman; and in work there is the sense of consanguinity-unconscious as a rule but sometimes conscious.