(Every word they said now would be true.) Do say something, she thought, wishing only to hear his voice. For the shadow, the thing folding them in was beginning, she felt, to close round her again. Say anything, she begged, looking at him, as if for help.

“…the cardinal labor of composition, which is excision…”

“The only advice, indeed, that one person can give another about reading is to t…”

“En cierta manera, esto era su desastre, su desdicha. Era su castigo el ver hund…”

“And if literature is not the Bride and Bedfellow of Truth, what is she? 'Confou…”