The danger of trying to write beautifully in English lies in the ease with which it is possible to do something very like it. There are the old cadences humming in one’s head, the old phrases covering nothing so decently that it seems to be something after all. Preoccupied with the effort to be smooth, rotund, demure, and irreproachable, sentimentality slips past unnoticed, and platitudes spread themselves abroad with an air of impeccable virtue.
