Above All Else , The Devil Can

[something] Does Not Rise To The Dignity Of Error.

If You Had Felt Yourself Sufficient, It Would Have Been A Proof That You Were Not.

I Am A Product [...of] Endless Books.

Mortal Lovers Must Not Try To Remain At The First Step; For Lasting Passion Is The Dream Of A Harlot And From It We Wake In Despair.

We May Be Sure That The Characteristic Blindness Of The Twentieth Century [...] Lies Where We Have Never Suspected It [...] The Only Palliative Is [...] By Reading Old Books. [...] The Books Of The Future Would Be Just As Good [...], But Unfortunately We Cannot Get At Them.