Those Who Do Not Love Life Do

The Reader Of These Memoirs Will Discover That I Never Had Any Fixed Aim Before My Eyes, And That My System, If It Can Be Called A System, Has Been To Glide Away Unconcernedly On The Stream Of Life, Trusting To The Wind Wherever It Led.

I Don't Conquer, I Submit.

Should I Perchance Still Feel After My Death, I Would No Longer Have Any Doubt, But I Would Most Certainly Give The Lie To Anyone Asserting Before Me That I Was Dead.

Praise The Beautiful For Their Intelligence And The Intelligent For Their Beauty.

The Story She Had Told Me Was Possible, But It Was Not Believable.