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.

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.

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.

Literature, the most seductive, the most deceiving, the most dangerous of professions.

Literature, the most seductive, the most deceiving, the most dangerous of professions.

I am never long, even in the society of her I love, without yearning for the company of my lamp read more

I am never long, even in the society of her I love, without yearning for the company of my lamp and my library.

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.

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.

Truth must necessarily be stranger than fiction, for fiction is the creation of the human mind and therefore congenial to read more

Truth must necessarily be stranger than fiction, for fiction is the creation of the human mind and therefore congenial to it.

Writing is not a profession but a vocation of unhappiness.

Writing is not a profession but a vocation of unhappiness.