On the heroines of Tales of the South Pacific (1947) in Commercial Appeal (31 December 1951)
Source: The Magic Mountain (1924), Ch. 1
Context: Space, like time, engenders forgetfulness; but it does so by setting us bodily free from our surroundings and giving us back our primitive, unattached state. Yes, it can even, in the twinkling of an eye, make something like a vagabond of the pedant and Philistine. Time, we say, is Lethe; but change of air is a similar draught, and, if it works less thoroughly, does so more quickly.
“Wives are young men's mistresses, companions for middle age, and old men's nurses.”
Of Marriage and Single Life
Essays (1625)
"Ice Agents Prefer Deporting Illegals To Changing Their Diapers" http://dailycaller.com/2017/03/02/ice-agents-like-deporting-illegals-better-than-changing-their-diapers/ The Daily Caller, March 3, 2017
2010s, 2017
Variant: On ICE agents minding illegal alien minors: "By upholding the moral order, President Trump is also restoring the natural order, inverted by his predecessors. The feminist order of Obama had humiliated thousands of American men-of-action by turning them into wet-nurses."
Prayer and the Art of Volkswagen Maintenance (2000, Harvest House Publishers)
283 http://books.google.com/books?id=_GLTsGHUxDgC&lpg=PA171&dq=Today%20as%20always%2C%20men%20fall%20into%20two%20groups&pg=PA171#v=onepage&q&f=false
Human, All Too Human (1878)
ibid, Ch. 8, s. 12
My Past and Thoughts(1852-1870)
“Reflections on Wallace Stevens”, p. 134; conclusion
Poetry and the Age (1953)
Context: How necessary it is to think of the poet as somebody who has prepared himself to be visited by a dæmon, as a sort of accident-prone worker to whom poems happen — for otherwise we expect him to go on writing good poems, better poems, and this is the one thing you cannot expect even of good poets, much less of anybody else. Good painters in their sixties may produce good pictures as regularly as an orchard produces apples; but Planck is a great scientist because he made one discovery as a young man — and I can remember reading in a mathematician’s memoirs a sentence composedly recognizing the fact that, since the writer was now past forty, he was unlikely ever again to do any important creative work in mathematics. A man who is a good poet at forty may turn out to be a good poet at sixty; but he is more likely to have stopped writing poems, to be doing exercises in his own manner, or to have reverted to whatever commonplaces were popular when he was young. A good poet is someone who manages, in a lifetime of standing out in thunderstorms, to be struck by lightning five or six times; a dozen or two dozen times and he is great.
