When friendship disappears then there is a space left open to that awful loneliness of the outside world which is like the cold space between the planets. It is an air in which men perish utterly. – Hilaire Belloc
It is the best of all trades, to make songs, and the second best to sing them. – Hilaire Belloc
When I am dead, I hope it may be said: His sins were scarlet, but his books were read. – Hilaire Belloc
Matilda told such dreadful lies,
It made one gasp and stretch ones eyes;
Her aunt, who from her earliest youth,
Had kept a strict regard for truth,
Attempted to believe Matilda:
The effort very nearly killed her. – Hilaire Belloc
The majority of writers ought to translate themselves; there are but few thoughts that are born translated, that is, clothed with the power best fitted alike to express and transmit them. What we have in the first instance written for ourselves, should be written a second time for others. – Alexandre Vinet (1797–1847), Literature. First Section: Literature in Gene