Most People Go To Their

A Tranquil Woman Can Go On Sewing Longer Than An Angry Man Can Go On Fuming.

Give Me The Artist Who Breathes It Like A Native, And Goes About His Work In It As Quietly As A Common Man Goes About His Ordinary Business. Mozart Did So; And That Is Why I Like Him. Even If I Did Not, I Should Pretend To; For A Taste In His Music Is A Mark Of Caste Among Musicians, And Should Be Worn, Like A Tall Hat, By The Amateur Who Wishes To Pass For A True Brahmin.

Christianity As A Specific Doctrine Was Slain With Jesus, Suddenly And Utterly. He Was Hardly Cold In His Grave, Or High In His Heaven (as You Please), Before The Apostles Dragged The Tradition Of Him Down To The Level Of The Thing It Has Remained Ever Since.

If I Bind The Future I Bind My Will. If I Bind My Will I Strangle Creation.

With The Single Exception Of Homer, There Is No Eminent Writer, Not Even Sir Walter Scott, Whom I Can Despise So Entirely As I Despise Shakespeare When I Measure My Mind Against His. . . . It Would Positively Be A Relief To Me To Dig Him Up And Throw Stones At Him.