The Only Impeccable Writers Are Those Who

Keep Your Misfortunes To Yourself.

We Grow Tired Of Ourselves, Much More Of Other People.

The Mind Revolts Against Certain Opinions, As The Stomach Rejects Certain Foods.

So I Have Loitered My Life Away, Reading Books, Looking At Pictures, Going To Plays, Hearing, Thinking, Writing On What Pleased Me Best. I Have Wanted Only One Thing To Make Me Happy, But Wanting That Have Wanted Everything.

Persons Of Slender Intellectual Stamina Dread Competition, As Dwarfs Are Afraid Of Being Run Over In The Street.