A light here required a shadow there.

Are we so made that we have to take death in small doses daily or we could not go on with the business of living?

There is no room for the impurities of literature in an essay.... the essay must be pure--pure like water or pure like wine, but pure from dullness, deadness, and deposits of extraneous matter.

There'll be oceans of talk and emotions without end.

The world was going on as usual. All the time she was writing the world had continued.

I ransack public libraries & find them full of sunk treasure.

Ruin, weariness, death, perpetually death, stand grimly to confront the other presence of Elizabethan drama which is life: life compact of frigates, fir trees and ivory, of dolphins and the juice of July flowers, of the milk of unicorns and panthers’ breath, of ropes of pearl, brains of peacocks and Cretan wine.