There Is Only One Good Thing In

There Are Some Delightful Places In This World Which Have A Sensual Charm For The Eyes. One Loves Them With A Physical Love. We People Who Are Attracted By The Countryside Cherish Fond Memories Of Certain Springs, Certain Woods, Certain Ponds, Certain Hills, Which Have Become Familiar Sights And Can Touch Our Hearts Like Happy Events. Sometimes Indeed The Memory Goes Back Towards A Forest Glade, Or A Spot On A River Bank Or An Orchard In Blossom, Glimpsed Only Once On A Happy Day, But Preserved In Our Heart.

Our Memory Is A More Perfect World Than The Universe: It Gives Back Life To Those Who No Longer Exist.

The Bed Comprehends Our Whole Life, For We Were Born In It, We Live In It, And We Shall Die In It

The Simplest Of Women Are Wonderful Liars Who Can Extricate Themselves From The Most Difficult Dilemmas With A Skill Bordering On Genius.

She Was A Sweet Girl But Not Really Pretty, A Rough Sketch Of A Woman With A Little Of Everything In Her, One Of Those Silhouettes Which Artists Draw In Three Strokes On The Tablecloth In A Café After Dinner, Between A Glass Of Brandy And A Cigarette. Nature Sometimes Turns Out Creatures Like That.