What A Misfortune To Be A Woman!

In My Great Melancholy, I Loved Life, For I Love My Melancholy.

Genius, Like A Thunderstorm, Comes Up Against The Wind.

It Is Modest Of The Nightingale Not To Require Anyone To Listen To It; But It Is Also Proud Of The Nightingale Not To Care Whether Any One Listens To It Or Not.

You Wanted God's Ideas About What Was Best For You To Coincide With Your Ideas, But You Also Wanted Him To Be The Almighty Creator Of Heaven And Earth So That He Could Properly Fulfill Your Wish. And Yet, If He Were To Share Your Ideas, He Would Cease To Be The Almighty Father.

Where Am I? Who Am I? How Did I Come To Be Here? What Is This Thing Called The World?