The Writer Must Wade Into Life As

You Must Write For Yourself, Above All. That Is Your Only Hope Of Creating Something Beautiful.

Exuberance Is Better Than Taste.

Iced Champagne Was Served, And The Feel Of The Cold Wine In Her Mouth Gave Emma A Shiver That Ran Over Her From Head To Toe.

I Believe That If One Always Looked At The Skies, One Would End Up With Wings.

Love, She Thought, Must Come Suddenly, With Great Outbursts And Lightnings,--a Hurricane Of The Skies, Which Falls Upon Life, Revolutionises It, Roots Up The Will Like A Leaf, And Sweeps The Whole Heart Into The Abyss.