How Wonderful To Be Alive, He Thought.

I Am Alone; All Drowns In The Pharisees' Hypocrisy. To Live Your Life Is Not As Simple As To Cross A Field.

Art Always Serves Beauty, And Beauty Is The Joy Of Possessing Form, And Form Is The Key To Organic Life Since No Living Thing Can Exist Without It.

A Literary Creation Can Appeal To Us In All Sorts Of Ways-by Its Theme, Subject, Situations, Characters. But Above All It Appeals To Us By The Presence In It Of Art. It Is The Presence Of Art In Crime And Punishment That Moves Us Deeply Rather Than The Story Of Raskolnikov's Crime.

Love Is Not Weakness. It Is Strong. Only The Sacrament Of Marriage Can Contain It.

Don't Be Upset. Don't Listen To Me. I Only Meant That I Am Jealous Of A Dark, Unconscious Element, Something Irrational, Unfathomable. I Am Jealous Of Your Toilet Articles, Of The Drops Of Sweat On Your Skin, Of The Germs In The Air You Breathe Which Could Get Into Your Blood And Poison You. And I Am Jealous Of Komarovsky, As If He Were An Infectious Disease. Someday He Will Take You Away, Just As Certainly As Death Will Someday Separate Us. I Know This Must Seem Obscure And Confused, But I Can't Say It More Clearly. I Love You Madly, Irrationally, Infinitely.