Frankness Invites Frankness.

I Find That The Americans Have No Passions, They Have Appetites.

By Fate, Not Option, Frugal Nature Gave One Scent To Hyson And To Wall-flower, One Sound To Pine-groves And To Water-falls, One Aspect To The Desert And The Lake. It Was Her Stern Necessity : All Things Are Of One Pattern Made; Bird, Beast, And Flower, Song, Picture, Form, Space, Thought, And Character Deceive Us, Seeming To Be Many Things, And Are But One.

In The Sublimest Flights Of The Soul, Rectitude Is Never Surmounted, Love Is Never Outgrown.

The Imitator Dooms Himself To Hopeless Mediocrity.

The Torments Of Martyrdom Are Probably Most Keenly Felt By The Bystanders.