It Seems To Me A

No One Can Be Free Who Has A Thousand Ancestors.

Don't You Know That It Is Only Very Foolish Folk Who Talk Sense All The Time?

The Woods Are Never Solitary--they Are Full Of Whispering, Beckoning, Friendly Life. But The Sea Is A Mighty Soul, Forever Moaning Of Some Great, Unshareable Sorrow, Which Shuts It Up Into Itself For All Eternity.

As A Rule, I Am Very Careful To Be Shallow And Conventional Where Depth And Originality Are Wasted.

As She Walked Along She Dramatized The Night. There Was About It A Wild, Lawless Charm That Appealed To A Certain Wild, Lawless Strain Hidden Deep In Emily’s Nature—the Strain Of The Gypsy And The Poet, The Genius And The Fool.