Only The Present Counts.

Hell, Madame, Is To Love No Longer.

What Does It Matter, All Is Grace.

When Writing Of Oneself One Should Show No Mercy. Yet Why At The First Attempt To Discover One's Own Truth Does All Inner Strength Seem To Melt Away In Floods Of Self-pity And Tenderness And Rising Tears?

The Most Dangerous Of Our Calculations Are Those We Call Illusions.

Appearances Are Nothing.... And First Of All They Should Not Be Feared, They Are Only Dangerous To The Weak.