A fool's brain digests philosophy into folly, science into superstition, and art into pedantry. Hence University education.

A fool's brain digests philosophy into folly, science into superstition, and art into pedantry. Hence University education.

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.

A sequel is an admission that you've been reduced to imitating yourself.

A sequel is an admission that you've been reduced to imitating yourself.

To write a good love letter, you ought to begin without knowing what you mean to say, and to finish read more

To write a good love letter, you ought to begin without knowing what you mean to say, and to finish without knowing what you have written.

Our poetry in the eighteenth century was prose; our prose in the
seventeenth, poetry.

Our poetry in the eighteenth century was prose; our prose in the
seventeenth, poetry.

Time the great destroyer of other men's happiness, only enlarges
the patrimony of literature to its possessor.

Time the great destroyer of other men's happiness, only enlarges
the patrimony of literature to its possessor.

I dare say I am compelled, unconsciously compelled, now to write volume after volume, as in past years I was read more

I dare say I am compelled, unconsciously compelled, now to write volume after volume, as in past years I was compelled to go to sea, voyage after voyage. Leaves must follow upon each other as leagues used to follow in the days gone by, on and on to the appointed end, which, being truth itself, is one -- one for all men and for all occupations.

When the waves are round me breaking,As I pace the deck alone,And my eye in vain is seekingSome green leaf read more

When the waves are round me breaking,As I pace the deck alone,And my eye in vain is seekingSome green leaf to rest upon;What would not I give to wanderWhere my old companions dwell?Absence makes the heart grow fonder,Isle of Beauty, fare thee well! - Paradise Lost.

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