He Does Not Weep Who Does Not

Separated Lovers Cheat Absence By A Thousand Fancies Which Have Their Own Reality. They Are Prevented From Seeing One Another And They Cannot Write; Nevertheless They Find Countless Mysterious Ways Of Corresponding, By Sending Each Other The Song Of Birds, The Scent Of Flowers, The Laughter Of Children.

These Are Dark Radiances. They Have No Suspicion That They Are To Be Pitied. Certainly They Are So. He Who Does Not Weep Does Not See. They Are To Be Admired And Pitied, As One Would Both Pity And Admire A Being At Once Night And Day, Without Eyes Beneath His Lashes But With A Star On His Brow.

Without Vanity, Without Coquetry, Without Curiosity, In A Word, Without The Fall, Woman Would Not Be Woman. Much Of Her Grace Is In Her Frailty.

Reality In Strong Doses Frightens.

I Exist," Murmurs Someone Whose Name Is Everyone. "i'm Young And In Love; I Am Old And I Want Rest; I Work, I Prosper, I Do Good Business, I Have Houses To Rent, Money In State Securities; I Am Happy, I Have Wife And Children; I Like All These Things And I Want To Go On Living, So Leave Me Alone."... There Are Moments When All This Casts A Deep Chill On The Large-minded Pioneers Of The Human Race.