More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
The crossing was worn by time, but not by Man, of late.
My execrable vanity is like that of the fabled cat who studied ornithology, m’Lord.
He was a very dispirited Poet. He had never expected the world to act in a courteous, seemly, or even sensible manner, and the world had seldom done so; often he had taken heart in the consistency of its rudeness and stupidity. But never before had the world shot the Poet in the abdomen with a musket. This he found not heartening at all.
