There Is No Escaping, At Times, The

I Have Followed After The Truth, Across This Windy Planet Upon Which Every Person Is Nourished By One Or Another Lie.

Some Few There Must Be In Every Age And Every Land Of Whom Life Claims Nothing Very Insistently Save That They Write Perfectly Of Beautiful Happenings.

In Religious Matters A Traveller Loses Nothing By Civility.

The Desire To Write Perfectly Of Beautiful Happenings Is, As The Saying Runs, Old As The Hills — And As Immortal.

At All Events, I Do Not Mean To Leave It Unaltered.