The Age Is A Vociferous One, And

She Must Face Her Grief Where The Struggle Is Always Hardest-in The Place Where Each Trivial Object Is Attended By Pleasant Memories.

I Had No Place In Any Coterie, Or In Any Reciprocal Self-advertising. I Stood Alone. I Stood Outside. I Wanted Only To Learn. I Wanted Only To Write Better.

Youth Is Always An Enemy To The Old.

I Have Written Chiefly Because, Though I Have Often Dreaded The Necessity, I Have Found It More Painful, In The End, Not To Write.

The Suitable Is The Last Thing We Ever Want.