Everything Is There: The Love Of Art.

What Baffled Him Was That There Should Be All This Fuss About Something So Simple As Love.

Reality Does Not Conform To The Ideal, But Confirms It.

Melancholy Is A Sensual Pleasure That Is Deliberately Provoked. How Many People Shut Themselves Away To Make Themselves Sadder, Or To Weep Beside A Stream, Or Choose A Sentimental Book! We Are Constantly Building And Unbuilding Ourselves.

My Foregrounds Are Imaginary, My Backgrounds Real.

And So I Will Take Back Up My Poor Life, So Plain And So Tranquil, Where Phrases Are Adventures And The Only Flowers I Gather Aremetaphors.