If In 100 Years I

My Mind Rebels At Stagnation. Give Me Problems, Give Me Work, Give Me The Most Abstruse Cryptogram, Or The Most Intricate Analysis, And I Am In My Own Proper Atmosphere. But I Abhor The Dull Routine Of Existence. I Crave For Mental Exaltation.

It Has Always Seemed To Me That So Long As You Produce Your Dramatic Effect, Accuracy Of Detail Matters Little. I Have Never Striven For It And I Have Made Some Bad Mistakes In Consequence. What Matter If I Hold My Readers?

I Love And Am Loved By A Better Man Than He.

He Seems To Have Declared War On The King’s English As Well As On The English King.

To All The World He Was The Man Of Violence, Half Animal And Half Demon; But To Her He Always Remained The Little Wilful Boy Of Her Own Girlhood, The Child Who Had Clung To Her Hand. Evil Indeed Is The Man Who Has Not One Woman To Mourn Him.