When Passion And Habit Long Lie In

Woman Already Controls By Not Seeming To Do So. Talk No More Of Her Rights.

Love, The One Supreme, Unceasing Source Of Human Felicity, The One Sole Joy Which Lifts The Whole Mortal Existence Into The Empyrean, Was By It [christianity] Degraded Into The Mere Mechanical Action Of Reproduction.

Music Is Not A Science Any More Than Poetry Is. It Is A Sublime Instinct, Like Genius Of All Kinds.

Familiarity Is A Magician That Is Cruel To Beauty But Kind To Ugliness.

A Great Love Is An Absolute Isolation And An Absolute Absorption.