People Can Be Lovers And Enemies At

Winter Lies Too Long In Country Towns; Hangs On Until It Is Stale And Shabby, Old And Sullen.

Now That Stevenson Is Dead I Can Think Of But One English- Speaking Author Who Is Really Keeping His Self-respect And Sticking Forperfection. Of Course I Refer To That Mighty Master Of Language And Keen Student Of Human Actions And Motives, Henry James.

Art Is A Concrete And Personal And Rather Childish Thing After All - No Matter What People Do To Graft It Into Science And Make It Sociological And Psychological; It Is No Good At All Unless It Is Let Alone To Be Itself - A Game Of Make-believe, Or Re-production, Very Exciting And Delightful To People Who Have An Ear For It Or An Eye For It.

The End Is Nothing; The Road Is All.

Too Much Detail Is Apt, Like Any Other Form Of Extravagance, To Become Slightly Vulgar.