Writers May Be Classified As Meteors, Planets,

Life Is A Constant Process Of Dying.

Every Human Perfection Is Allied To A Defect Into Which It Threatens To Pass, But It Is Also True That Every Defect Is Allied To A Perfection.

Genius Is An Intellect That Has Become Unfaithful To Its Destiny.

Faith Is Like Love: It Does Not Let Itself Be Forced.

How Is It Possible That Suffering That Is Neither My Own Nor Of My Concern Should Immediately Affect Me As Though It Were My Own, And With Such Force That Is Moves Me To Action?