I Was Born To Travel And Write

The Arts Teach And Moralise By Their Beauty Alone, Not By Translating A Philosophical Or Social Formula. For The Truly Artistic Person, Painting Has Itself As It's Purpose, Which Is Quite Enough.

The Pleasure In Traveling Consists Of The Obstacles, The Fatigue, And Even The Danger. What Charm Can Anyone Find In An Excursion When He Is Always Sure Of Reaching His Destination, Of Having Horses Ready Waiting For Him, A Soft Bed, An Excellent Supper, And All The Eases And Comfort He Can Enjoy In His Own Home! One Of The Great Misfortunes Of Modern Life Is The Want Of Any Sudden Surprise, And The Absence Of All Adventure. Everything Is So Well Arranged.

I Am A Man For Whom The Outside World Exists.

Whatever May Have Been Said Of The Satiety Of Pleasure And Of The Disgust Which Usually Follows Passion, Any Man Who Has Anything Of A Heart And Who Is Not Wretchedly And Hopelessly Blasé Feels His Love Increased By His Happiness, And Very Often The Best Way To Retain A Lover Ready To Leave Is To Give One's Self Up To Him Without Reserve.

Modesty Was Made For The Ugly.