I Needn't Tell You That Success And

... Love Is Too Delicate A Flower To Rise Again When One Has Trampled It Under Foot.

It Is Extraordinary How Music Sends One Back Into Memories Of The Past.

The Masses Are Still Ungrateful Or Ignorant. They Prefer Murder, Poisonings, And Crimes Generally To A Literature Possessed Of Style And Feeling.

Time Is Always Wanting To Me, And I Cannot Meet With A Single Day When I Am Nut Hurried Along, Driven To By Wits'-end By Urgent Work, Business To Attent Do Or Some Service To Render.

Age Continually Alters The Faces Of Those Who Think Or Study, And So Their Portraits Differ From One Another And Don't Even Resemble Them For Very Long. I Dream So Much And Live So Little That I'm Sometimes Only Three Years Old. But The Next Day I'm Three Hundred, If The Dream Has Been Sombre.