People Say That Life Is

All Mirrors Are Magical Mirrors, And We Never See Our Faces In Them.

What Things There Are To Write, If One Could Only Write Them! My Mind Is Full Of Gleaming Thought; Gay Moods And Mysterious, Moth-like Meditations Hover In My Imagination, Fanning Their Painted Wings. But Always The Rarest, Those Streaked With Azure And The Deepest Crimson, Flutter Away Beyond My Reach.

You Cannot Be Both Fashionable And First-rate

To Become Young Again Would Seem To Me An Appalling Prospect. Youth Is A Kind Of Delirium, Which Can Be Cured, If It Is Ever Cured At All, By Years Of Painful Treatment.

Most People Sell Their Souls, And Live With A Good Conscience On The Proceeds.