Now Literary Success Can Only Be Won

Holding This Book In Your Hand, Sinking Back In Your Soft Armchair, You Will Say To Yourself: Perhaps It Will Amuse Me. And After You Have Read This Story Of Great Misfortunes, You Will No Doubt Dine Well, Blaming The Author For Your Own Insensitivity, Accusing Him Of Wild Exaggeration And Flights Of Fancy. But Rest Assured: This Tragedy Is Not A Fiction. All Is True.

Excess Of Joy Is Harder To Bear Than Any Amount Of Sorrow.

Virtue, Perhaps, Is Nothing More Than Politeness Of Soul.

Many Men Are Deeply Moved By The Mere Semblance Of Suffering In A Woman; They Take The Look Of Pain For A Sign Of Constancy Or Of Love.

Your Modest Savant Smiles As He Says To His Admirers: What Have I Done? Nothing. Man Does Not Invent A Force, He Directs It.