“I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don't have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.”
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It seems as if an age of genius must be succeeded by an age of endeavour riot and extravagance by cleanliness and hard work.
Masterpieces are not single and solitary births they are the outcome of many years of thinking in common, of thinking by the body of the people, so that the experience of the mass is behind the single voice.
A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.
When the shriveled skin of the ordinary is stuffed out with meaning, it satisfies the senses amazingly.