Sentiment Without Action Is The Ruin Of

The Longest Journey Begins With A Single Step, Not With A Turn Of The Ignition Key.

Each Thing In Its Way, When True To Its Own Character, Is Equally Beautiful. (p 41)

The Hawk's Cry Is As Sharp As Its Beak.

Edmund Wilson Was Our Greatest American Literary Critic Because He Was More Than A Literary Critic: He Was A Fearless, Even Radical Judge Of The Society He Lived In. (see, For Example, _a Piece Of My Mind_; _the Cold War And The Income Tax_; The Introduction To _patriotic Gore_.) Our Conventional Critics Cannot Forgive Him For Those Scandalous Lapses In Good Taste.

Don't Talk To Me About Other Worlds, Separate Realities, Lost Continents Or Invisible Realms -- I Know Where I Belong. Heaven Is Home. Utopia Is Here. Nirvana Is Now.