It Is Not What He Had, Or

The Only Substance Properly So Called Is The Soul.

Sympathy Is The First Condition Of Criticism.

[t]he Habit Of Scientific Analysis ... Exhausts The Material Offered To It.

We Become Actors Without Realizing It, And Actors Without Wanting To.

To Feel Keenly The Poetry Of A Morning's Roses, One Has To Have Just Escaped From The Claws Of This Vulture Which We Call Sickness.