My Sister And I, You

There Is Nothing More To Be Said Or To Be Done Tonight, So Hand Me Over My Violin And Let Us Try To Forget For Half An Hour The Miserable Weather And The Still More Miserable Ways Of Our Fellowmen.

He Is Not A Bad Fellow, Though An Absolute Imbecile In His Profession. He Has One Positive Virtue. He Is As Brave As A Bulldog And As Tenacious As A Lobster If He Gets His Claws Upon Anyone.

Jealousy Is A Strange Transformer Of Characters.

Just As An Octopus May Have His Den In Some Ocean Cave, And Come Floating Out A Silent Image Of Horror To Attack A Swimmer, So I Picture Such A Spirit Lurking In The Dark Of The House Which He Curses By His Presence, And Ready To Float Out Upon All Whom He Can Injure.

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.