How Odd It Is That We So

I Began This Book With The Intention Of Concealing Nothing, That Those Who Liked Might Have The Benefit Of Perusing A Fellow Creature's Heart: But We Have Some Thoughts That All The Angels In Heaven Are Welcome To Behold -- But Not Our Brother-men -- Not Even The Best And Kindest Amongst Them.

No; For Instead Of Delivering Myself Up To The Full Enjoyment Of The As Others Do, I Am Always Troubling My Head About How I Could Produce The Same Effect Upon Canvas; And As That Can Never Be Done, It Is Mere Vanity And Vexation Of Spirit.

He Is Very Fond Of Me, Almost Too Fond. I Could Do With Less Caressing And More Rationality. I Should Like To Be Less Of A Pet And More Of A Friend, If I Might Choose; But I Won't Complain Of That: I Am Only Afraid His Affection Loses In Depth Where It Gains In Ardour. I Sometimes Liken It To A Fire Of Dry Twigs And Branches Compared With One Of Solid Coal, Very Bright And Hot; But If It Should Burn Itself Out And Leave Nothing But Ashes Behind.

You Cannot Expect Stone To Be As Pliable As Clay.

A Light Wind Swept Over The Corn, And All Nature Laughed In The Sunshine.