No, I Only Think You Cruel, As

He Greatly Valued His Possessions, Chiefly Because They Were His, And Derived Genuine Pleasure From Contemplating A Painting, A Statuette, A Rare Lace Curtain - No Matter What - After He Had Bought It And Placed It Among His Household Gods.

There Are Periods Of Despondency And Suffering Which Take Possession Of Me. But I Don't Want Anything But My Own Way. That Is Wanting A Good Deal, Of Course, When You Have To Trample Upon The Lives, The Hearts, The Prejudices Of Others-

I'm Going To Pull Myself Together For A While And Think-try To Determine What Character Of A Woman I Am; For, Candidly, I Don't Know. By All The Codes Which I Am Acquainted With, I Am A Devilishly Wicked Specimen Of The Sex. But Some Way I Can't Convince Myself That I Am. I Must Think About It.

There Were Days When She Was Unhappy, She Did Not Know Why,--when It Did Not Seem Worthwhile To Be Glad Or Sorry, To Be Alive Or Dead; When Life Appeared To Her Like A Grotesque Pandemonium And Humanity Like Worms Struggling Blindly Toward Inevitable Annihilation.

I Should Never Deem A Man Of Ordinary Caliber Worthy Of My Devotion.