Date: 1911

" I have no material clay to mould to the given shape; the only thing which one has for the purpose, and which acts as a substitute for it, a kind of mental clay, are certain metaphors modified into theories of aesthetic and rhetoric."

— Hulme, T. E. (1883-1917)

Date: 1911

"As for Mr. Woodhouse, whose most famous sentences hang like texts in frames on the four walls of our memories, he is, next to Don Quixote, perhaps the most perfect gentleman in fiction; and under outrageous provocation he remains so."

— Bradley, A.C. (1851-1935)

Date: 1913

"But there was a twist in his brain which made his pictures of real life appear like scenes looked at through flawed glass."

— Gosse, Edmund (1849-1928)

Date: 1919

"My memories simply trooped the colour."

— Cummings, Bruce Frederick [pseud. W. N. P. Barbellion] (1889-1919)

Date: 1919

"Every man is an inexhaustible treasury of human personality. He can go on burrowing in it for an eternity if he have the desire--and a taste for introspection."

— Cummings, Bruce Frederick [pseud. W. N. P. Barbellion] (1889-1919)

Date: 1919

"In default of others, I am myself my own spectator and self-appreciator--critical, discerning, vigilant, fond!--my own stupid Boswell, shrewd if silly. This spectator of mine, it seems to me, must be a very moral gentleman and eminently superior. His incessant attentions, while I go on my way mi...

— Cummings, Bruce Frederick [pseud. W. N. P. Barbellion] (1889-1919)

Date: 1919

"I never cease to interest myself in the Gothic architecture of my own fantastic soul."

— Cummings, Bruce Frederick [pseud. W. N. P. Barbellion] (1889-1919)

Date: 1926

"But he didn't feel very brave, for the word which was really jiggeting about in his brain was 'Heffalumps.'"

— Milne, A. A. (1882-1956)

Date: 1926

"Suddenly she remembered the goods yard at Paddington, and all her thoughts slid together again like a pack of hounds that have picked up the scent."

— Warner, Sylvia Townsend (1893-1978)

Date: 1926

"In the goods yard at Paddington she had almost pounced on the clue, the clue to the secret country of her mind."

— Warner, Sylvia Townsend (1893-1978)