Self-love Seems So Often Unrequited.

Few Persons Who Have Ever Sat For A Portrait Can Have Felt Anything But Inferior While The Process Is Going On.

For Reasons Not Always At The Time Explicable, There Are Specific Occasions When Events Begin Suddenly To Take On A Significance Previously Unsuspected, So That, Before We Really Know Where We Are, Life Seems To Have Begun In Earnest At Last, And We Ourselves, Scarcely Aware That Any Change Has Taken Place, Are Careering Uncontrollably Down The Slippery Avenues Of Eternity.

People Think That Because A Novel's Invented, It Isn't True. Exactly The Reverse Is The Case. Biography And Memoirs Can Never Be Wholly True, Since They Cannot Include Every Conceivable Circumstance Of What Happened. The Novel Can Do That.

Dinner At The Huntercombes' Possessed Only Two Dramatic Features - The Wine Was A Farce And The Food A Tragedy.

He Fell In Love With Himself At First Sight And It Is A Passion To Which He Has Always Remained Faithful. Selflove Seems So Often Unrequited.