“Dialogue in fiction should be reserved for the culminating moments and regarded as the spray into which the great wave of narrative breaks in curving toward the watcher on the shore.”–Edith Wharton
“Don’t you ever mind,” she asked suddenly, “not being rich enough to buy all the books you want?”-Edith Wharton, The House of Mirth
Legendary writer Edith Wharton died on 11 August 1937. She was seventy-five.
Here she is, in her twenties, with her two vicious looking little dogs. I bet they liked biting strangers’ ankles.
Edith Wharton was born on 24 January 1862. Here she is, through the years:
Edith Wharton by Edward Harrison May, 1870
Edith Wharton by E.F. Cooper, circa 1889
Edith Wharton, 1907
Edith Wharton, 1915
Edith Wharton, pre-1919