The Trouble Is That No

I Expected So Much From Life And If I Had Not Seen It So Close, I Would To This Day Be Expecting Something. What Treasures I Discovered In My Own Soul - Where Are They All? I Have Exchanged Them For The World's Coin, Given My Frankness, My First Passion - And For What? For Bitter Disillusionment, For The Knowledge That All Is Deception, All Is Brittle, That One Can Place Trust Neither In Oneself Nor In Others - And I Have Come To Fear Both Others And Myself. I Have Not Been Able, Along With This Analysis, To Accept The Trifles Of Life And Be Content With Them, As Many Others Do.

Memories Are The Height Of Poetry Only When They Are Memories Of Happiness. When They Graze Wounds Over Which Scars Have Formed They Become An Aching Pain.

The Trouble Is That No Devastating Or Redeeming Fires Have Ever Burnt In My Life.... My Life Began By Flickering Out.

A Close, Daily Intimacy Between Two People Has To Be Paid For: It Requires A Great Deal Of Experience Of Life, Logic, And Warmth Of Heart On Both Sides To Enjoy Each Other’s Good Qualities Without Being Irritated By Each Other’s Shortcomings And Blaming Each Other For Them.

Yesterday One Has Wished, To-day One Attains The Madly Longed-for Object, And To-morrow One Will Blush To Think That One Ever Desired It.