It Is Love, Not Reason, That Is

(t)here Was A Story They Used To Tell At Home About A Girl Whose Punishment Was That Every Time She Opened Her Mouth, Snakes And Toads Came Out, Snakes And Toads With Every Word. The Book Didn't Say What She Did About It, But I've Always Assumed She Probably Ended Up Keeping Her Mouth Shut.

Speech Is Civilization Itself.

Distance In A Straight Line Has No Mystery. The Mystery Is In The Sphere.

The Books And Magazines Streamed In. He Could Buy Them All, They Piled Up Around Him And Even While He Read, The Number Of Those Still To Be Read Disturbed Him. … They Stood In Rows, Weighing Down His Life Like A Possession Which He Did Not Succeed In Subordinating To His Personality.

In Books We Never Find Anything But Ourselves. Strangely Enough, That Always Gives Us Great Pleasure, And We Say The Author Is A Genius.