Art Is Magic, Not Logic.

I Wouldn't Dream Of Following A Fashion... How Could One Be A Different Person Every Three Months?

Tall Windows Show Infinity; And, Hard Reality, The Candles Weep And Pry And Dance Like Lives Mocked At By Chance. The Rooms Are Vast As Sleep Within; When Once I Ventured In, Chill Silence, Like A Surging Sea, Slowly Enveloped Me.

I'm Afraid I'm Being An Awful Nuisance.

Eccentricity Is Not, As Some Would Believe, A Form Of Madness. It Is Often A Kind Of Innocent Pride, And The Man Of Genius And The Aristocrat Are Frequently Regarded As Eccentrics Because Genius And Aristocrat Are Entirely Unafraid Of And Uninfluenced By The Opinions And Vagaries Of The Crowd.

If One Is A Greyhound, Why Try To Look Like A Pekingese?