How Can We Explain The

There Are Two Kinds Of Poets: Those Who Feel And Those Who Express Themselves. The Former Are Happier.

Intuition, Like The Rays Of The Sun, Acts Only In An Inflexibly Straight Line; It Can Guess Right Only On Condition Of Never Diverting Its Gaze; The Freaks Of Chance Disturb It.

Discouragement Is Of All Ages: In Youth It Is A Presentiment, In Old Age A Remembrance.

A Flow Of Words Is A Sure Sign Of Duplicity.

The Events Of Human Life, Whether Public Or Private, Are So Intimately Linked To Architecture That Most Observers Can Reconstruct Nations Or Individuals In All The Truth Of Their Habits From The Remains Of Their Monuments Or From Their Domestic Relics.