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Seeing
soldiers marching I surprise myself remember that it is a fine
thing to march with other men and know you are all in step and
all moving in the same direction. There is hardly a more out of
step path than that of a writer. Writers hardly meet each other or
the audience they write for.
This seems most odd
as I have just finished a lecture on the Lady of Shalott, a kind of
commentary on the detached life of the artist, turning other lives
into art.
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