Authorities Browbeat wholesome common-sense into the self-distrust Comfort from the thought that most things cannot be helped Concerning popularity as a test of merit in a book Critical vanity and self-righteousness Critics are in no sense the legislators of literature Dickens rescued Christmas from Puritan distrust Fact that it is hash many times warmed over that reassures them Forbear the excesses of analysis Glance of the common eye, is and always was the best light Greatest classics are sometimes not at all great Holiday literature Imitators of one another than of nature Languages, while they live, are perpetually changing Let fiction cease to lie about life Long-puerilized fancy will bear an endless repetition Made them talk as seldom man and never woman talked No greatness, no beauty, which does not come from truth Novels hurt because they are not true Plain industry and plodding perseverance are despised Pseudo-realists Public wish to be amused rather than edified Teach what they do not know Tediously analytical Unless we prefer a luxury of grief Vulgarity: bad art to lug it in Whatever is established is sacred with those who do not think MY LITERARY PASSIONS [WH#25][whmlp10.txt]3378 Account of one's reading is an account of one's life Affections will not be bidden Air of looking down on the highest Authors I must call my masters Capriciousness of memory: what it will hold and what lose Contemptible he found our pseudo-equality Criticism still remains behind all the other literary arts Dickens is purely democratic Escaped at night and got into the boy's dreams Fictions subtle effect for good and for evil on the young Hardly any sort of bloodshed which I would not pardon Hospitable gift of making you at home with him In school there was as little literature then as there is now Inexperience takes this effect (literary lewdness) for reality Kindness and gentleness are never out of fashion Kissing goes by favor, in literature as in life Lewd literature seems to give a sanction to lewdness in the life Made many of my acquaintances very tired of my favorite authors Mustache, which in those days devoted a man to wickedness My own youth now seems to me rather more alien My reading gave me no standing among the boys Never appeals to the principle which sniffs, in his reader None of the passions are reasoned Now little notion what it was about, but I love its memory Prejudice against certain words that I cannot overcome Rapture of the new convert could not last Responsibility of finding him all we have been told he is Secretly admires the splendors he affects to despise Self-satisfied, intolerant, and hypocritical provinciality Should probably have wasted the time if I had not read them So long as we have social inequality we shall have snobs Somewhat too studied grace Speaks it is not with words and blood, but with words and ink Spit some hapless victim: make him suffer and the reader laugh