We Spend Our Days In

Idleness Is Fatal Only To The Mediocre.

There Are Places Where The Mind Dies So That A Truth Which Is Its Very Denial May Be Born.

Holland Is A Dream, Monsieur, A Dream Of Gold And Smoke-smokier By Day, More Gilded By Night. And Night And Day That Dream Is Peopled With Lohengrins Like These, Dreamily Riding Their Black Bicycles With High Handle-bars, Funereal Swans Constantly Drifting Throughout The Whole Country, Around The Seas, Along The Canals.

Like Great Works, Deep Feelings Always Mean More Than They Are Conscious Of Saying.

I May Not Have Been Sure About What Really Did Interest Me, But I Was Absolutely Sure About What Didn't.