Happiness Is Never Really So

...and Yet Could Swear It Was Just Then That I Fell In Love. It Wasn't, Of Course, Simply The Onions -- It Was The Sudden Sense Of An Individual Woman, Of A Frankness That Was So Often Later To Make Me Happy And Miserable.

One's Life Is More Formed, I Sometimes Think, By Books Than By Human Beings: It Is Out Of Books One Learns About Love And Pain At Second Hand.

Our Worst Enemies Here Are Not The Ignorant And Simple, However Cruel; Our Worst Enemies Are The Intelligent And Corrupt

You Cannot Love Without Intuition.

It's Strange How The Human Mind Swings Back And Forth, From One Extreme To Another. Does Truth Lie At Some Point Of The Pendulum's Swing, At A Point Where It Never Rests, Not In The Dull Perpendicular Mean Where It Dangles In The End Like A Windless Flag, But At An Angle, Nearer One Extreme Than Another? If Only A Miracle Could Stop The Pendulum At An Angle Of Sixty Degrees, One Would Believe The Truth Was There.