...not know how—he did not pretend to see any depths in a life that is only a film of unsteady appearances stretched over regions deep indeed, but which ... ...eantime, unblushing, unseen, and often unheard, the guile- less poets have gone on singing in a sweet strain. How they dare do the impossible and virt... ... a more even than a Bismarckian sense. The very fear of this spectre being gone, it behoves us to consider its legacy—the fact (no phantom that) ac- c... ...ional temperament into the apathy of a hopeless fatalism. It seems to have gone into the blood, tainting every mental activity in its source by a half... ...ys of training. The same old thing. A grey- 134 Notes on Life and Letters green expanse of smudgy waters grinning angrily at one with white foam-ridg... ...g of heels round the corner of the deck- house, a white yachting cap and a green overcoat getting periodically between my eyes and the shift- ing clou... ...e night, was much more present to my mind and indeed to my senses than the green overcoat and the white cap of the German passenger circling the deck ...