There Is But One Way Of Refusing

Great Buildings, Like Great Mountains, Are The Work Of Centuries.

This First Glance Of A Soul Which Does Not Yet Know Itself Is Like Dawn In The Heavens; It Is The Awakening Of Something Radiant And Unknown.

Without Vanity, Without Coquetry, Without Curiosity, In A Word, Without The Fall, Woman Would Not Be Woman. Much Of Her Grace Is In Her Frailty.

We Shall Not Attempt To Give The Reader An Idea Of That Tetrahedron Nose-that Horse-shoe Mouth-that Small Left Eye Over-shadowed By A Red Bushy Brow, While The Right Eye Disappeared Entirely Under An Enormous Wart-of Those Straggling Teeth With Breaches Here And There Like The Battlements Of A Fortress-of That Horny Lip, Over Which One Of Those Teeth Projected Like The Tusk Of An Elephant-of That Forked Chin-and, Above All, Of The Expression Diffused Over The Whole-that Mixture Of Malice, Astonishment, And Melancholy. Let The Reader, If He Can, Figure To Himself This Combination.

The Day That A Woman Who Is Passing Before You Sheds A Light Upon You As She Goes, You Are Lost, You Love. You Have Then But One Thing To Do: To Think Of Her So Earnestly That She Will Be Compelled To Think Of You.