Good Writers Are Of Necessity Rare.

I Am Suspicious Without A Motive, And Jealous Without Love; Although I Feel I Ought To Love Since I Desire To Be Loved.

Over The Meeting Of The Lovers I Draw A Veil. The Burst Of Rapture With Which They Clasped Each Other In A Wild Embrace -- The Many Inquiries -- The Fond Regrets And Thrilling Hopes -- It Is Out Of My Power To Convey. Let Me, Therefore, Leave Them To Their Happiness.

A Man May Be Buoyed Up By The Efflation Of His Wild Desires To Brave Any Imaginable Peril; But He Cannot Calmly See One He Loves Braving The Same Peril; Simply Because He Cannot Feel Within Turn That Which Prompts Another. He Sees The Danger, And Feels Not The Power That Is To Overcome It.

Metaphysical Ghosts Cannot Be Killed, Because They Cannot Be Touched; But They May Be Dispelled By Dispelling The Twilight In Which Shadows And Solidities Are Easily Confounded. The Vital Principle Is An Entity Of This Ghostly Kind; And Although The Daylight Has Dissipated It, And Positive Biology Is No Longer Vexed With Its Visitations, It Nevertheless Reappears In Another Shape In The Shadowy Region Of Mystery Which Surrounds Biological And All Other Questions.

Except In The Rare Cases Of Great Dynamic Thinkers Whose Thoughts Are As Turning-points In The History Of Our Race, It Is By Style That Writers Gain Distinction, By Style They Secure Their Immortality.