But nevertheless, the fact remained, it was almost impossible to dislike anyone if one looked at them.

Why, he wondered, did people who had been asleep always want to make out that they were extremely wide-awake?

Conversation, fastidious goddess, loves blood better than brick, and feasts most subtly on the human will.

About here, she thought, dabbling her fingers in the water, a ship had sunk, and she muttered, dreamily half asleep, how we perished, each alone.

I want to write a novel about Silence," he said; “the things people don’t say.

But I beneath a rougher sea, And whelmed in deeper gulfs than he.

Criticism? An artist wants praise. Praise.