The Duration Of Passion Is

In The Silence Of Their Studios, Busied For Days At A Time With Works Which Leave The Mind Relatively Free, Painters Become Like Women; Their Thoughts Can Revolve Around The Minor Facts Of Life And Penetrate Their Hidden Meaning.

Holding This Book In Your Hand, Sinking Back In Your Soft Armchair, You Will Say To Yourself: Perhaps It Will Amuse Me. And After You Have Read This Story Of Great Misfortunes, You Will No Doubt Dine Well, Blaming The Author For Your Own Insensitivity, Accusing Him Of Wild Exaggeration And Flights Of Fancy. But Rest Assured: This Tragedy Is Not A Fiction. All Is True.

A Husband And Wife Who Are In The Habit Of Occupying Separate Rooms Are Either Beings Apart, Or They Have Found Happiness. Either They Hate Or They Adore Each Other.

The Wounds Of Self-love Turn Incurable When The Oxide Of Self-love Gets Into Them.

Misfortune Makes Of Certain Souls A Vast Desert Through Which Rings The Voice Of God.