In The Matter Of Furnishing, I Find

On This Narrow Planet, We Have Only The Choice Between Two Unknown Worlds. One Of Them Tempts Us - Ah! What A Dream, To Live In That! - The Other Stifles Us At The First Breath.

At The Top Of The Iron Staircase Leading To The Stage, The Good, Dry, Dusty Warmth Wraps Me Round Like A Comfortable Dirty Cloak.

Among All The Modernized Aspects Of The Most Luxurious Of Industries, The Model, A Vestige Of Voluptuous Barbarianism, Is Like Some Plunder-laden Prey. She Is The Object Of Unbridled Regard, A Living Bait, The Passive Realization Of An Ideal. No Other Female Occupation Contains Such Potent Impulses To Moral Disintegration As This One, Applying As It Does The Outward Signs Of Riches To A Poor And Beautiful Girl.

By Means Of An Image We Are Often Able To Hold On To Our Lost Belongings. But It Is The Desperateness Of Losing Which Picks The Flowers Of Memory, Binds The Bouquet.

I Went To Collect The Few Personal Belongings Which...i Held To Be Invaluable: My Cat, My Resolve To Travel, And My Solitude.