It Is With Pain That

I Am Not Good. I Am Not Virtuous. I Am Not Sympathetic. I Am Not Generous. I Am Merely And Above All A Creature Of Intense Passionate Feeling. I Feel—everything. It Is My Genius. It Burns Me Like Fire.

Genius Of A Kind Has Always Been With Me; An Empty Heart That Has Taken On A Certain Wooden Quality; An Excellent, Strong Woman's Body And A Pitiably Starved Soul.

But In My Life, In My Personality, There Is An Essence Of Falseness And Insincerity. A Thin, Fine Vapor Of Fraud Hangs Always Over Me And Dampens And Injures Some Things In Me That I Value.

Do You Think A Man Is The Only Creature With Whom One May Fall In Love?

The World Is Like A Little Marsh Filled With Mint And White Hawthorn.