A black cat among roses, phlox, lilac-misted under a quarter moon, the sweet smells of heliotrope and night-scented stock. The garden is very still. It is dazed with moonlight, contented with perfume.

Can you see through the night, woman, that you stare so upon it? Man, what sparks do your eyes follow in the smouldering darkness?

Sexual love is the most stupendous fact of the universe, and the most magical mystery our poor blind senses know.

How loud clocks can tick when a room is empty, and one is alone!

Happiness: We rarely feel it. I would buy it, beg it, steal it, Pay in coins of dripping blood For this one transcendent good.

Time! Joyless emblem of the greed of millions, robber of the best which earth can give.

Even pain pricks to livelier living.