To Think Is To Be Sick.

I Talk Too Much Because I Have Been Made So Miserable By What You Are Keeping Hushed.

Life Is Not To Be Told, Call It As Loud As You Like, It Will Not Tell Itself.

Love Becomes The Deposit Of The Heart, Analogous In All Degrees To The 'findings' In A Tomb. As In One Will Be Charted The Taken Place Of The Body, The Raiment, The Utensils Necessary To Its Other Life, So In The Heart Of The Lover Will Be Traced, As An Indelible Shadow, That Which He Loves.

There Is Always More Surface To A Shattered Object Than A Whole.

Well, Isn't Bohemia A Place Where Everyone Is As Good As Everyone Else - And Must Not A Waiter Be A Little Less Than A Waiter To Be A Good Bohemian?