In Switzerland They Had Brotherly Love, Five

Tea At College Was Served On Long Tables With An Urn At The End Of Each. Long Baguettes Of Bread, Three To A Table, Were Set Out With Meagre Portions Of Butter And Jam; The China Was Coarse To Withstand The Schoolboy-clutch And The Tea Strong. At The Hôtel De Paris I Was Astonished At The Fragility Of The Cups, The Silver Teapot, The Little Triangular Savoury Sandwiches, The éclairs Stuffed With Cream.

Had Shakespeare Listened To The News Of Duncans Death In A Tavern Or Heard The Knocking On His Own Bedroom Door After He Had Finished The Writing Of Macbeth?

The Economy Of A Novelist Is A Little Like That Of A Careful Housewife Who Is Unwilling To Throw Away Anything That Might Perhaps Serve Its Turn.

We Forget Very Easily What Gives Us Pain.

I Refused To Believe That Love Could Take Any Other Form Than Mine: I Measured Love By The Extent Of My Jealousy, And By That Standard Of Course She Could Not Love Me At All.