Emotions are the half witted storage of intellect

There&#39;s no such thing as perfect writing, just like there&#39;s no such thing as perfect despair.

He believed in Communism the way most people believed in God: he would not be greatly surprised or disappointed if he turned out to be wrong, and meanwhile it made little difference to the way he lived.

Overhead hung a summer sky furrowed with the rush of rockets; and from the east a late moon, pushing up beyond the lofty bend of the coast, sent across the bay a shaft of brightness which paled to ashes in the red glitter of the illuminated boats.

Written By Edith Wharton

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