How full and rich a world|Theirs to inhabit is–|Sweet scent of grass and bloom,|Playmates’ glad symphony,|Cool touch of western wind,|Sunshine’s divine caress.|How should they know or feel|They are in darkness?|But, oh, the miracle!|If a Redeemer came,|Laid finger on their eyes–|One touch and what a world,|New-born in loveliness!
Scratch the Christian and you find the pagan — spoiled.
Past: Our cradle, not our prison, and there is danger as well as appeal in its glamour. The past is for inspiration, not imitation; for continuation, not repetition.
Topics: Reflection, Past
No… the real American has not yet arrived. He is only in the Crucible, I tell you — he will be the fusion of all races, perhaps the coming superman.
It takes two men to make a brother.
America is God’s Crucible, the great Melting-Pot where all the races of Europe are melting and re-forming!
- Evelyn Waugh English Novelist, Humorist
- Arnold Bennett British Novelist
- Gladys Bronwyn Stern British Novelist
- Dodie Smith British Novelist, Playwright
- Mary Elizabeth Braddon British Novelist
- Graham Greene British Novelist, Playwright
- Doris Lessing Persian-born British Novelist
- Agatha Christie British Novelist
- H. G. Wells British Novelist
- Beryl Bainbridge British Novelist