What is wonderful about great literature is that it transforms the man who reads it towards the condition of the read more

What is wonderful about great literature is that it transforms the man who reads it towards the condition of the man who wrote.

In literature as in ethics, there is danger, as well as glory, in being subtle. Aristocracy isolates us.

In literature as in ethics, there is danger, as well as glory, in being subtle. Aristocracy isolates us.

Just don't take any class where you have to read BEOWULF.

Just don't take any class where you have to read BEOWULF.

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,And breathed in the face of the foe as he read more

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd;And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill,And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still! - Destruction of Sennacherib, The.

The great Cham of literature. (Samuel Johnson)

The great Cham of literature. (Samuel Johnson)

The classics are only primitive literature. They belong to the same class as primitive machinery and primitive music and primitive read more

The classics are only primitive literature. They belong to the same class as primitive machinery and primitive music and primitive medicine.

Everywhere I go, I'm asked if the universities stifle writers. My opinion is that they don't stifle enough of them.

Everywhere I go, I'm asked if the universities stifle writers. My opinion is that they don't stifle enough of them.

But wherefore thou alone? Wherefore with theeCame not all hell broke loose? Is pain to themLess pain, less to be read more

But wherefore thou alone? Wherefore with theeCame not all hell broke loose? Is pain to themLess pain, less to be fled, or thou than theyLess hardy to endure? Courageous chief,The first in flight from pain, hadst thou allegedTo thy deserted host this cause of flight,Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive. - Paradise Lost.

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.