London Is A Huge Shop, With A

Parks Are But Pavement Disguised With A Growth Of Grass.

Literature Nowadays Is A Trade... The Successful Man Of Letters Is Your Skilful Tradesman. He Thinks First And Foremost Of The Markets.

Money Is Made At Christmas Out Of Holly And Mistletoe, But Who Save The Vendors Would Greatly Care If No Green Branch Were Procurable?

I Hate With A Bitter Hatred The Names Of Lentils Haricots - Those Pretentious Cheats Of The Appetite, Those Tabulated Humbugs, Those Certified Aridites Calling Themselves Human Food!

I Hate And Fear 'science' Because Of My Conviction That, For Long To Come If Not For Ever, It Will Be The Remorseless Enemy Of Mankind. I See It Destroying All Simplicity And Gentleness Of Life, All The Beauty Of The World; I See It Restoring Barbarism Under A Mask Of Civilization; I See It Darkening Men's Minds And Hardening Their Hearts.