I [who] am perpetually making notes in the margin of my mind for some final statement.
Death is woven in with the violets,” said Louis. “Death and again death.”)
You send a boy to school in order to make friends - the right sort.
All this pitting of sex against sex, of quality against quality; all this claiming of superiority and imputing of inferiority belong to the private-school stage of human existence where there are sides, and it is necessary for one side to beat another side.
Whenever you see a board up with "Trespassers will be prosecuted," trespass at once.
The interest in life does not lie in what people do, nor even in their relations to each other, but largely in the power to communicate with a third party, antagonistic, enigmatic, yet perhaps persuadable, which one may call life in general.