Idealism, That Gaudy Coloring Matter Of Passion,

Do You Know There Is Always A Barrier Between Me And Any Man Or Woman Who Does Not Like Dogs?

Nothing Is More Consuming, Or More Illogical, Than The Desire For Remembrance.

Youth Is The Season Of Tragedy And Despair. Youth Is The Time When One's Whole Life Is Entangled In A Web Of Identity, In A Perpetual Maze Of Seeking And Of Finding, Of Passion And Of Disillusion, Of Vague Longings And Of Nameless Griefs, Of Pity That Is A Blade In The Heart, And Of 'all The Little Emptiness Of Love.

Insolent Youth Rides, Now, In The Whirlwind. For Those Modern Iconoclasts Who Are Without Culture Possess, Apparently, All The Courage.

Evidently, Whatever Else Marriage Might Prevent, It Was Not A Remedy For Isolation Of Spirit.