True, I Have Raped History, But It

In Love, Writing Is Dangerous, Not To Mention Pointless.

It Is Not The Tree That Forsakes The Flower, But The Flower That Forsakes The Tree.

We’ll Go Where The Air Is Pure, Where All Sounds Are Soothing, Where, No Matter How Proud One May Be, One Feels Humble And Finds Oneself Small- In Short, We’ll Go To The Sea. I Love The Sea As One Loves A Mistress And I Long For Her When I Haven’t Seen Her For Some Time

We Must Never Expect Discretion In First Love: It Is Accompanied By Such Excessive Joy That Unless The Joy Is Allowed To Overflow, It Will Choke You.

The Custom And Fashion Of Today Will Be The Awkwardness And Outrage Of Tomorrow - So Arbitrary Are These Transient Laws.