For The Sole True End Of Education

To Make A Deliberate Falsification For Personal Gain Is The Last, Worst Depth To Which Either Scholar Or Artist Can Descend In Work Or Life.

Death Seems To Provide The Minds Of The Anglo-saxon Race With A Greater Fund Of Amusement Than Any Other Single Subject.

Well, It Seems Like A Miracle To Be Able To Look Forward-to-to See All The Minutes In Front Of One Come Hopping Along With Something Marvellous In Them, Instead Of Just[pg 295] Saying, Well, That One Didn't Actually Hurt And The Next May Be Quite Bearable If Only Something Beastly Doesn't Come Pouncing Out--

The Keeping Of An Idle Woman Is A Badge Of Superior Social Status.

Fantasy Works Inwards Upon Its Author, Blurring The Boundary Between The Visioned And The Actual, And Associating Itself Ever Moreclosely With The Ego, So That The Child Who Has Fantasied Himself A Murderer Ends By Becoming A Loeb Or A Leopold. The Creative Imagination Works Outwards, Steadily Increasing The Gap Between The Visioned And The Actual, Till This Becomes The Great Gulf Fixed Between Art And Nature. Few Writers Of Crime-stories Become Murderers--if Any Do, It Is Not The Result Of Identifying Themselves With Their Murderous Heroes.