Tom's great yellow bronze mask all draped upon an iron framework. An inhibited, nerve-drawn; dropped face - as if hung on a scaffold of heavy private brooding; and thought.

The connection between dress and war is not far to seek; your finest clothes are those you wear as soldiers.

When an arguer argues dispassionately he thinks only of the argument.

A masterpiece is something said once and for all, stated, finished, so that it's there complete in the mind, if only at the back.

Of the rest some we know to be dead though they walk among us; some are not yet born though they go through the forms of life; others are hundreds of years old though they call themselves thirty-six.

For women live much more in the past...they attach themselves to places.

Let us again pretend that life is a solid substance, shaped like a globe, which we turn about in our fingers. Let us pretend that we can make out a plain and logical story, so that when one matter is despatched—love for instance—we go on, in an orderly manner, to the next.