Appealing Workplaces Are To Be Avoided. One

You Do What You Do Out Of Your Private Love Of The Thing Itself.

I Had Been Chipping At The World Idly, And Had By Accident Uncovered Vast And Labyrinthine Further Worlds Within It.

Like Everyone In His Right Mind, I Feared Santa Claus.

There Is A Muscular Energy In Sunlight Corresponding To The Spiritual Energy Of Wind.

The Written Word Is Weak. Many People Prefer Life To It. Life Gets Your Blood Going, & It Smells Good. Writing Is Mere Writing, Literature Is Mere. It Appeals Only To The Subtlest Senses—the Imagination’s Vision, & The Imagination’s Hearing—& The Moral Sense, & The Intellect. This Writing That You Do, That So Thrills You, That So Rocks & Exhilarates You, As If You Were Dancing Next To The Band, Is Barely Audible To Anyone Else.