and they sank beneath the unnatural devotion of their youthful energies to their dry old books?

Have you ever tried such a thing? I have, and it’s impossible, something only a few natural writers or journalists can do, be talking about politics, for example, and at the same time writing a little article on gardening or spondaic hexameters (which I can tell you, boys, are a rare phenomenon).

I daresay I must call this my home – though truly there never was so dank and drear a place – though Essex being flat and featureless at least has in its favour the kind of skies which all my life I have sought – I confess to having been surprised by affection for my husband – this dreadful emotion roused by discovering that he has commissioned a r

Every man believes there is a sort of obligation on us to interest ourselves in this vision or panorama of life. He would think a man wrong who said, “I did not ask for this farce and it bores me. I am aware that an old lady is being murdered down-stairs, but I am going to sleep.” That there is any such duty to improve the things we did not make is