A Novel Is An Impression, Not An

A Strong Woman Who Recklessly Throws Away Her Strength, She Is Worse Than A Weak Woman Who Has Never Had Any Strength To Throw Away.

Always Wanting Another Man Than Your Own.

My Eyes Were Dazed By You For A Little, And That Was All.

When Women Are Secret They Are Secret Indeed; And More Often Then Not They Only Begin To Be Secret With The Advent Of A Second Lover.

Never In Her Life – She Could Swear It From The Bottom Of Her Soul – Had She Ever Intended To Do Wrong; Yet These Hard Judgments Had Come. Whatever Her Sins, They Were Not Sins Of Intention, But Of Inadvertence, And Why Should She Have Been Punished So Persistently?