The Artist Vocation Is To Send Light

One Wastes So Much Time, One Is So Prodigal Of Life, At Twenty! Our Days Of Winter Count For Double. That Is The Compensation Of The Old.

Life Resembles A Novel More Often Than Novels Resemble Life.

You See What Stupid Folk My Publishers Are; But They Are All Alike.

We Do Not Die Of Anguish, We Live On. We Continue To Suffer. We Drink The Cup Drop By Drop.

The Prayers Of A Lover Are More Imperious Than The Menaces Of The Whole World