“We all drew on the comfort which is given out by the major works of Mozart, whic…” — Rebecca West

There is in every one of us an unending see-saw between the will to live and the will to die.

I write books to find out about things.

Everyone realizes that one can believe little of what people say about each other. But it is not so widely realized that even less can one trust what people say about themselves.

God forbid that any book should be banned. The practice is as indefensible as infanticide.