Most Of The Beauty Of Women Evaporates

Doing Is Overrated, And Success Undesirable, But The Bitterness Of Failure Even More So.

It Is Only In The Country That We Can Get To Know A Person Or A Book.

There Is Immunity In Reading, Immunity In Formal Society, In Office Routine, In The Company Of Old Friends And In The Giving Of Officious Help To Strangers, But There Is No Sanctuary In One Bed From The Memory Of Another. The Past With Its Anguish Will Break Through Every Defense-line Of Custom And Habit; We Must Sleep And Therefore We Must Dream.

Beneath A Mask Of Selfish Tranquility Nothing Exists Except Bitterness And Boredom. I Am One Of Those Whom Suffering Has Made Empty And Frivolous: Each Night In My Dreams I Pull The Scab Off A Wound; Each Day, Vacuous And Habit-ridden, I Help It Re-form.

Except For Poverty, Incompatibility, Opposition Of Parents, Absence Of Love On One Side And Of Desire To Marry On Both, Nothing Stands In The Way Of Our Happy Union.