Biography
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Essays by
The horizon
On the horizon is the sweetest light. Elsewhere colour mars the simplicity of light.
The hours of sleep
Perhaps it will be found that to work all by day or all by night is to miss something of the powers of a complex mind.
Rain
The visible world is etched and engraved with the signs and records of our halting apprehension.
Solitude
There are the multitudes to whom civilization has given little but its reaction, its rebound, its chips, its refuse, its shavings, sawdust and waste, its failures; to them solitude is a right foregone or a luxury unattained.
The spirit of place
The spirit of place, which is to be seen in the shapes of the fields and the manner of the crops, to be felt in a prevalent wind, breathed in the breath of the earth, overheard in a far street-cry or in the tinkle of some black-smith, calls out and peals in the cathedral bells.
Wells
The search of easy ways to live is not always or everywhere the way to ugliness, but in some countries, at some dates, it is the sure way.