What are you doing now?
I've told you. I'm _living_. O! I'm full of it: I know what art is now;
I know what real literature is. It has nothing to do with style or form
or manner. George Moore, not my cat but the other one, has said that
Christianity is not a stranger religion than the cult of the inevitable
word. The _matter_ is what counts. I think it was Theodore Dreiser....
Here I did interrupt:
I know him. When I first came to New York in 1906, I wrote a paper
about Richard Strauss's Salome for the Broadway Magazine. He was the
editor.
You know Theodore Dreiser!
There was awe in his tone.
Very slightly. I saw something of him then. Principally, I remember
his habit, when he was talking, of folding his handkerchief into small
squares, then unfolding it. He repeated this process indefinitely.
Show me.