What Fools People Are When

I Suppose I Am A Born Novelist, For The Things I Imagine Are More Vital And Vivid To Me Than The Things I Remember.

When This Immediate Evil Power Has Been Defeated, We Shall Not Yet Have Won The Long Battle With The Elemental Barbarities. Another Hitler, It May Be An Invisible Adversary, Will Attempt, Again, And Yet Again, To Destroy Our Frail Civilization. Is It True, I Wonder, That The Only Way To Escape A War Is To Be In It? When One Is A Part Of An Actuality Does The Imagination Find A Release?

Dignity Is An Anachronism.

There Is In Every Human Being, I Think, A Native Country Of The Mind, Where, Protected By Inaccessible Barriers, The Sensitive Dream Life May Exist Safely.

... In The Nineteen-thirties ... The Most Casual Reader Of Murder Mysteries Could Infallibly Detect The Villain, As Soon As There Entered A Character Who Had Recently Washed His Neck And Did Not Commit Mayhem On The English Language.