Mozart Is A Human Incarnation Of The

At The End Of Life Thoughts Hitherto Impossible Come To The Collected Mind, Like Good Spirits Which Let Themselves Down From The Shining Heights Of The Past.

It Is So Hard That One Cannot Really Have Confidence In Doctors And Yet Cannot Do Without Them.

How Circumscribed Is Woman's Destiny!

America, You Have It Better Than Our Continent, The Old One.

I Do Not Now Begin, - I Still Adore Her Whom I Early Cherish'd In My Breast; Then Once Again With Prudence Dispossess'd, And To Whose Heart I'm Driven Back Once More. The Love Of Petrarch, That All-glorious Love, Was Unrequited, And, Alas, Full Sad.