Art's Greatest Efforts Are Invariably A Timid

Though The Human Heart May Have To Pause For Rest When Climbing The Heights Of Affection It Rarely Stops On The Slippery Slope Of Hatred.

Le Coeur D'une Me' Re Est Un Ab|"me Au Fond Duquel Se Trouve Toujours Un Pardon. A Mother'sheart Isanabyss Atthebottomof Whichthere Is Always Forgiveness.

The Press Is Like A Woman: Sublime When It Lies, It Will Not Let Go Until It Has Forced You To Believe It. The Public, Like A Foolish Husband, Always Succumbs.

It Is As Absurd To Say That A Man Can't Love One Woman All The Time As It Is To Say That A Violinist Needs Several Violins To Play The Same Piece Of Music.

We Have Long Struggles With Ourself, Of Which The Outcome Is One Of Our Actions; They Are, As It Were, The Inner Side Of Human Nature. This Inner Side Is God's; The Outer Side Belongs To Men.