In The Course Of Reading He [alexander

He Who Has Talent In Him Must Be Purer In Soul Than Anyone Else. Another Will Be Forgiven Much, But To Him It Will Not Be Forgiven. A Man Who Leaves The House In Bright, Festive Clothes Needs Only One Drop Of Mud Splashed From Under A Wheel, And People All Surround Him, Point Their Fingers At Him, And Talk About His Slovenliness, While The Same People Ignore Many Spots On Other Passers-by Who Are Wearing Everyday Clothes. For On Everyday Clothes The Spots Do Not Show.

What Is Stronger In Us — Passion Or Habit? Or Are All The Violent Impulses, All The Whirl Of Our Desires And Turbulent Passions, Only The Consequence Of Our Ardent Age, And Is It Only Through Youth That They Seem Deep And Shattering?

Two Turtle Doves Will Show Thee Where My Cold Ashes Lie And Sadly Murmuring Tell Thee How In Tears I Did Die

Whatever You May Say, The Body Depends On The Soul.

I Am Very Fond Of The Modest Manner Of Life Of Those Solitary Owners Of Remote Villages, Who In Little Russia Are Commonly Called "old-fashioned," Who Are Like Tumbledown Picturesque Little Houses, Delightful In Their Simplicity And Complete Unlikeness To The New Smooth Buildings Whose Walls Have Not Yet Been Discolored By The Rain, Whose Roofs Are Not Yet Covered With Green Lichen, And Whose Porch Does Not Display Its Bricks Through The Peeling Stucco.