The Only Woman To Whom

Life Is Richly Worth Living, With Its Continual Revelations Of Mighty Woe, Yet Infinite Hope; And I Take It To My Breast.

All Around Us Lies What We Neither Understand Nor Use. Our Capacities, Our Instincts For This Our Present Sphere Are But Half Developed. Let Us Confine Ourselves To That Till The Lesson Be Learned; Let Us Be Completely Natural; Before We Trouble Ourselves With The Supernatural. I Never See Any Of These Things But I Long To Get Away And Lie Under A Green Tree And Let The Wind Blow On Me. There Is Marvel And Charm Enough In That For Me.

The Critic Is Beneath The Maker, But Is His Needed Friend. The Critic Is Not A Base Caviler, But The Younger Brother Of Genius. Next To Invention Is The Power Of Interpreting Invention; Next To Beauty The Power Of Appreciating Beauty. And Of Making Others Appreciate It.

Whatever The Soul Knows How To Seek, It Cannot Fail To Obtain.

I Am 'too Fiery'... Yet I Wish To Be Seen As I Am And I Would Lose All Rather Than Soften Away Anything.