It's Great To Be Great, But It's

She Wanted To Be Alone - To Think Things Out - To Adjust Herself, If It Were Possible, To The New World In Which She Seemed To Have Been Transplanted With A Suddenness And Completeness That Left Her Half Bewildered To Her Own Identity.

I Love Pretty Things; And I Hate To Look In The Glass And See Something That Isn't Pretty. It Makes Me Feel So Sorrowful—just As I Feel When I Look At Any Ugly Thing. I Pity It Because It Isn't Beautiful.

…determined To Enjoy Her Luxury Of Grief Uncomforted.

It's All Very Well To Read About Sorrows And Imagine Yourself Living Through Them Heroically, But It's Not So Nice When You Really Come To Have Them, Is It?

Which Would You Rather Be If You Had The Choice--divinely Beautiful Or Dazzlingly Clever Or Angelically Good?