Better To Be Without Logic Than Without

I Longed For A Power Of Vision Which Might Overpass That Limit; Which Might Reach The Busy World, Towns, Regions Full Of Life I Had Heard Of But Never Seen: That I Desired More Of Practical Experience Than I Possessed; More Of Intercourse With My Kind, Of Acquaintance With Variety Of Character, Than Was Here Within My Reach.

There Was No Possibility Of Taking A Walk That Day.

I Scorn Your Idea Of Love,' I Could Not Help Saying, As I Rose Up And Stood Before Him, Leaning My Back Against The Rock. 'i Scorn The Counterfeit Sentiment You Offer: Yes, St. John, And I Scorn You When You Offer It.

Is Not The Real Experience Of Each Individual Very Limited? And, If A Writer Dwells Upon That Solely Or Principally, Is He Not In Danger Of Repeating Himself, And Also Of Becoming An Egotist? Then, Too, Imagination Is A Strong, Restless Faculty, Which Claims To Be Heard And Exercised: Are We To Be Quite Deaf To Her Cry, And Insensate To Her Struggles? When She Shows Us Bright Pictures, Are We Never To Look At Them, And Try To Reproduce Them? And When She Is Eloquent, And Speaks Rapidly And Urgently In Our Ear, Are We Not To Write To Her Dictation?

Happiness Quite Unshared Can Scarcely Be Called Happiness; It Has No Taste.