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.

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.

They castrate the books of other men in order that with the fat of their works they may lard their read more

They castrate the books of other men in order that with the fat of their works they may lard their own lean volumes.

All literature is political.

All literature is political.

Poetry is the impish attempt to paint the color of the wind.

Poetry is the impish attempt to paint the color of the wind.

When I give a lecture, I accept that people look at their watches, but what I do not tolerate is read more

When I give a lecture, I accept that people look at their watches, but what I do not tolerate is when they look at it and raise it to their ear to find out if it stopped.

The difficulty of literature is not to write, but to write what you mean

The difficulty of literature is not to write, but to write what you mean

You can't teach a hunter it's wrong to kill.

You can't teach a hunter it's wrong to kill.

A good novel tells us the truth about its hero; but a bad novel tells us the truth about its read more

A good novel tells us the truth about its hero; but a bad novel tells us the truth about its author.