Great literature is simply language charged with meaning to the utmost possible degree.

Great literature is simply language charged with meaning to the utmost possible degree.

Five miles meandering with mazy motion, Through dale the sacred
river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, read more

Five miles meandering with mazy motion, Through dale the sacred
river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank
the tumult to a lifeless ocean: And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard
from far Ancestral voices prophesying war!

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.

'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.

Woe to him who teaches men faster than they can learn.

Woe to him who teaches men faster than they can learn.

'Tis an old saying, the Devil lurks behind the cross. All is not gold that glitters. From the tail of read more

'Tis an old saying, the Devil lurks behind the cross. All is not gold that glitters. From the tail of the plough, Bamba was made King of Spain; and from his silks and riches was Rodrigo cast to be devoured by the snakes. - Don Quixote.

We cultivate literature on a little oat-meal.

We cultivate literature on a little oat-meal.

Biographies are but the clothes and buttons of a man -- the biography of the man himself cannot be written.

Biographies are but the clothes and buttons of a man -- the biography of the man himself cannot be written.

Accuse not nature, she hath done her part;Do thou but thine, and be not diffidentOf wisdom, she deserts thee not, read more

Accuse not nature, she hath done her part;Do thou but thine, and be not diffidentOf wisdom, she deserts thee not, if thouDismiss not her, when most thou needest her nigh,By attributing overmuch to thingsLess excellent, as thou thyself perceivest. - Paradise Lost.