A New Chapter In A Novel Is

The Word Book Acted As A Transient Stimulus

I See At Intervals The Glance Of A Curious Sort Of Bird Through The Close Set Bars Of A Cage: A Vivid, Restless, Resolute Captive Is There; Were It But Free, It Would Soar Cloud-high.

I Tired Of The Routine Of Eight Years In One Afternoon.

Jane Austin Was A Complete And Most Sensible Lady, But A Very Incomplete And Rather Insensible (not Senseless) Woman. If This Is Heresy, I Cannot Help It.

But Solitude Is Sadness.' 'yes; It Is Sadness. Life, However, Has Worse Than That. Deeper Than Melancholy Lies Heart-break.