Hatred Like Love Feeds On

Between The Daylight Gambler And The Player At Night There Is The Same Difference That Lies Between A Careless Husband And The Lover Swooning Under His Lady's Window.

If The Artist Does Not Fling Himself, Without Reflecting, Into His Work, As Curtis Flung Himself Into The Yawning Gulf, As The Soldier Flings Himself Into The Enemy's Trenches, And If, Once In This Crater, He Does Not Work Like A Miner On Whom The Walls Of His Gallery Have Fallen In; If He Contemplates Difficulties Instead Of Overcoming Them One By One ... He Is Simply Looking On At The Suicide Of His Own Talent.

Love Is The Reduction Of The Universe To The Single Being, And The Expansion Of A Single Being, Even To God

Who Shall Ever Tell How Much An Unmerited Disfavor Crushes A Shy Person? Who Can Ever Depict The Misfortunes Of Timidity?

Love Or Hatred Must Constantly Increase Between Two Persons Who Are Always Together; Every Moment Fresh Reasons Are Found For Loving Or Hating Better.