The Very Effort To Forget

Strange Mystery Of Our Nature, That Those In Whom Genius Develops Itself In Imagination, Thus Taking Its Most Ethereal Form, Should Yet Be The Most Dependent On The Opinions Of Others!

A Woman Only Can Understand A Woman.

Conscience, Like A Child, Is Soon Lulled To Sleep.

We Would Liken Music To Aladdin's Lamp — Worthless In Itself, Not So For The Spirits Which Obey Its Call. We Love It For The Buried Hopes, The Garnered Memories, The Tender Feelings, It Can Summon With A Touch.

... True Love Is Like Religion, It Hath Its Silence And Its Sanctity.