What We Cut Off From Our Other

Novelty Is To Love Like Bloom To Fruit; It Gives A Luster Which Is Easily Effaced, But Never Returns.

We Are Sometimes As Different From Ourselves As We Are From Others.

True Love Is Like Ghosts, Which Everyone Talks About And Few Have Seen.

The Desire Of Talking Of Ourselves, And Showing Those Faults We Do Not Mind Having Seen, Makes Up A Good Part Of Our Sincerity.

A Weak Mind Is The Only Defect Out Of Our Power To Mend.