Ladies And Gentlemen Of The Jury, Exhibit

I Have Never Seen A More Lucid, More Lonely, Better Balanced Mad Mind Than Mine.

She Had Spent All Her Life In Feeling Miserable; This Misery Was Her Native Element; Its Fluctuations, Its Varying Depths, Alone Save Her The Impression Of Moving And Living. What Bothers Me Is That A Sense Of Misery, And Nothing Else, Is Not Enough To Make A Permanent Soul. My Enormous And Morose Mademoiselle Is All Right On Earth But Impossible In Eternity.

Oh, My Lolita, I Have Only Words To Play With!

We Hasten To Alienate The Very Fates We Intended To Woo.

For Better Or Worse, It Is The Commentator Who Has The Last Word.