Good children's literature appeals not only to the child in the adult, but to the adult in the child

Good children's literature appeals not only to the child in the adult, but to the adult in the child

If a poet has any obligation toward society, it is to write well. Being in the minority, he has no read more

If a poet has any obligation toward society, it is to write well. Being in the minority, he has no other choice. Failing this duty, he sinks into oblivion. Society, on the other hand, has no obligation toward the poet. A majority by definition, society thinks of itself as having other options than reading verses, no matter how well written. Its failure to do so results in its sinking to that level of locution at which society falls easy prey to a demagogue or a tyrant. This is society's own equivalent of oblivion.

From the moment I picked your book up until I laid it down I was convulsed with laughter. Some day read more

From the moment I picked your book up until I laid it down I was convulsed with laughter. Some day I intend reading it.

Little do such men know the toil, the pains, the daily, nightly racking of the brains, to range the thoughts, read more

Little do such men know the toil, the pains, the daily, nightly racking of the brains, to range the thoughts, the matter to digest, to cull fit phrases, and reject the rest.

All modern American literature comes from one book by Mark Twain
called "Huckleberry Finn."

All modern American literature comes from one book by Mark Twain
called "Huckleberry Finn."

In literature as in love we are astounded by what is chosen by others.

In literature as in love we are astounded by what is chosen by others.

Teaching is not a lost art, but the regard for it is a losttradition.

Teaching is not a lost art, but the regard for it is a losttradition.

The authority of those who teach is often an obstacle to those who want to learn.

The authority of those who teach is often an obstacle to those who want to learn.

'Humph!' grunted Mr. Romford, seeing his worst fears about to be realized. He had dreamt that he had timbled over read more

'Humph!' grunted Mr. Romford, seeing his worst fears about to be realized. He had dreamt that he had timbled over a poodle in the drawing-room, and squirted a bottle of porter right into a lady's face. 'Who's goin' besides ourselves?' asked Romford, wishing to know the worst at once. 'Better be killed than frightened to death,' thought he. - Mr. Facey Romford's Hounds.