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Quote by Elizabeth Drew
The test of literature is, I suppose, whether we ourselves live mo

The test of literature is, I suppose, whether we ourselves live more intensely for the reading of it. – Elizabeth Drew

Other quotes by Elizabeth Drew

The torment of human frustration, whatever its immediate cause, is the knowledge that the self is in prison, its vital force and mangled mind leaking away in lonely, wasteful self-conflict. – Elizabeth Drew

Category:
Prison
Author
Elizabeth Drew
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Other Quotes from
Literary
category

Avarice, envy, pride,
Three fatal sparks, have set the hearts of all
On Fire. – Dante Alighieri

Category:
Literary

It was a pleasant caf – Ernest Hemingway

Category:
Literary

This lifes dim windows of the soul
Distorts the heavens from pole to pole
And leads you to believe a lie
When you see with, not through, the eye. – William Blake

Category:
Literary

In the true Literary Man there is thus ever, acknowledged or not by the world, a sacredness: he is the light of the world; the worlds Priest; — guiding it, like a sacred Pillar of Fire, in its dark pilgrimage through the waste of Time. – Thomas Carlyle

Category:
Literary

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The one benefit of having done all kinds of movies as an actor is, you learn the pros and cons of being tempted to do a really big movie because it costs a lot of money. – Ben Affleck

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movies

If there is something you must do and you cannot do it, you cannot do anything else. – Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic’s Notebook, 1960

Category:
How True!

From one casual of mine he picked this sentence. After dinner, the men moved into the living room. I explained to the professor that this was Rosss way of giving the men time to push back their chairs and stand up. There must, as we know, be a comma after every move, made by men, on this earth. – James Thurber

Category:
Grammar

We make a mistake forsaking England and moving out into the periphery of life. After all, Taormina, Ceylon, Africa, America — as far as we go, they are only the negation of what we ourselves stand for and are: and were rather like Jonahs running away from the place we belong. – D. H. (David Herbert) Lawrence

Category:
Exile