What the artist is always looking for is the mode of existence in which soul and body are one and indivisible: in which the outward is expressive of the inward: in which form reveals.

So much had been surrendered! And to such little purpose! There had been mad wilful rejections, monstrous forms of self-torture and self-denial, whose origin was fear and whose result was a degradation infinitely more terrible than that fancied degradation from which, in their ignorance, they had sought to escape.

Hear no evil, speak no evil, and you won't be invited to cocktail parties.

Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.

The beautiful, passionate, ruined South, the land of magnolias and music, of roses and romance . . . living on the memory of crushing defeats

If one doesn't talk about a thing, it has never happened. It is simply expression that gives reality to things.

It is what you read when you don't have to that determines what you will be when you can't help it.