You Don't Remember Days, You Remember Moments.

You Don't Remember Days, You Remember Moments.

There Is Something Indecent In Words .

There Is Only One Pleasure-that Of Being Alive. All The Rest Is Misery.

All Our "most Sacred Affections " Are Merely Prosaic Habit.

For Women, History Does Not Exist. Murasaki, Sappho, And Madame Lafayette Might Be Their Own Contemporaries.