I Was So Humiliated, Hurt, Spurned, Offended,

The Shadows Of Our Own Desires Stand Between Us And Our Better Angels, And Thus Their Brightness Is Eclipsed.

In A Utilitarian Age, Of All Other Times, It Is A Matter Of Grave Importance That Fairy Tales Should Be Respected.

I Have Been Very Fortunate In Worldly Matters; Many Men Have Worked Much Harder, And Not Succeeded Half So Well; But I Never Could Have Done What I Have Done, Without The Habits Of Punctuality, Order, And Diligence, Without The Determination To Concentrate Myself On One Object At A Time, No Matter How Quickly Its Successor Should Come Upon Its Heels, Which I Then Formed.

A Mob Is Usually A Creature Of Very Mysterious Existence, Particularly In A Large City. Where It Comes From, Or Whither It Goes, Few Men Can Tell. Assembling And Dispersing With Equal Suddenness, It Is As Difficult To Follow To Its Various Sources As The Sea Itself; Nor Does The Parallel Stop Here, For The Ocean Is Not More Fickle And Uncertain, More Terrible When Roused, More Unreasonable Or More Cruel.

I Want To Escape From Myself. For When I Do Start Up And Stare Myself Seedily In The Face, As Happens To Be My Case At Present, My Blankness Is Inconceivable--indescribable--my Misery Amazing.