Twice Flush had done his utmost to kill his enemy; twice he had failed. And why had he failed, he asked himself? Because he loved Miss Barrett. Looking up at her from under his eyebrows as she lay, severe and silent on the sofa, he knew that he must love her for ever. Things are not simple but complex. If he bit Mr. Browning he bit her too. Hatred is not hatred; hatred is also love.

Some collaboration has to take place in the mind between the woman and the man before the art of creation can be accomplished. Some marriage of opposites has to be consummated. The whole of the mind must lie wide open if we are to get the sense that the

Better was it to go unknown and leave behind you an arch, then to burn like a meteor and leave no dust.

You cannot find peace by avoiding life.

Really I don't like human nature unless all candied over with art.

literature is the record of our discontent.

Often on a wet day I begin counting up; what I've read; what I haven't read.