Biography
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Essays by
The lie of the land
The life of all art goes on in the mind and heart, not merely of those who make the work, but of those who see and read it.
Limbo
The bulk of happiness stacked up in Limbo appears, on careful looking, to be an agglomeration of other lost things; justice, charm, appreciation, and faith in one another.
On modern travelling
Before visiting countries and towns in the body, we ought to have visited them in the spirit; otherwise I fear we might as well sit still at home.
In the praise of old houses
I know few things more odious than the chilly, draughty, emptiness of a place without a history.
Tuscan midsummer magic
I am inclined to think that the specific charm of Italy exists only during the hot months; the charm which gives one a little stab now and then and makes one say–‘This is Italy.’