There is a sadness at the back of life which some people do not attempt to mitigate. Entirely aware of their own standing in the shadow, and yet alive to every tremor and gleam of existence, there they endure.

Venerable are letters, infinitely brave, forlorn, and lost.

To admit authorities, however heavily furred and gowned, into our libraries and let them tell us how to read, what to read, what value to place upon what we read, is to destroy the spirit of freedom which is the breath of those sanctuaries.

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

They say the sky is the same everywhere. Travellers, the shipwrecked, exiles, and the dying draw comfort from the thought.

Like" and "like" and "like"--but what is the thing that lies beneath the semblance of the thing?

Nothing has really happened until it has been recorded.