One Wastes So Much Time, One Is

Life Is A Slate Where All Our Sins Are Written; From Time To Time We Rub The Sponge Of Repentance Over It So We Can Begin Sinning Again.

Art Belongs To All Times And To All Countries; Its Special Benefit Is Precisely To Be Still Living When Everything Else Seems Dying; That Is Why Providence Shields It From Too Personal Or Too General Passions, And Grants It A Patient And Persevering Organization, Durable Sensibility, And The Contemplative Sense In Which Lies Invincible Faith.

We Cannot Tear Out A Single Page Of Our Life, But We Can Throw The Whole Book In The Fire.

A Day Will Come When Everything In My Life Will Be Changed, When I Shall Do Good To Others, When Some One Will Love Me, When I Shall Give My Whole Heart To The Man Whi Gives Ne His; Neanwhile, U Will Suffer In Silence And Keep My Love As A Reward For Him Who Shall Set Me Free.

The Old Woman I Shall Become Will Be Quite Different From The Woman I Am Now. Another I Is Beginning.