by Virginia Woolf
It is simple enough to say that since books have classes—fiction, biography, poetry—we should separate them and take from each what it is right that each should give us. Yet few people ask from books what books can give us. Most commonly we come to books with blurred and divided minds, asking of fiction that it shall be true, of poetry that it shall be false, of biography that it shall be flattering, of history that it shall enforce our own prejudices. If we could
banish(
[ban·ish || 'bænɪʃ]
v. 流放, 放逐; 开除, 赶走; 消除, 排除)
all suc