Time Past And Time Future Allow But

The More Perfect The Artist, The More Completely Separate In Him Will Be The Man Who Suffers And The Mind Which Creates.

The Last Thing One Discovers In Composing A Work Is What To Put First.

For Us, There Is Only The Trying. The Rest Is Not Our Business.

But At My Back From Time To Time I Hear The Sound Of Horns And Motors, Which Shall Bring Sweeney To Mrs. Porter In The Spring. O The Moon Shone Bright On Mrs. Porter And On Her Daughter They Wash Their Feet In Soda Water.

Think Neither Fear Nor Courage Saves Us. Unnatural Vices Are Fathered By Our Heroism. Virtues Are Forced Upon Us By Our Impudent Crimes. These Tears Are Shaken From The Wrath-bearing Tree.