The master proves himselin recognizing his limitations.

Ah! my poor brain is racked and crazed, My spirit and senses amazed!

English plays, Atrocious in content, Absurd in form, Objectionable in action, Execrable EnglishTheatre.

So then the year is repeating its old story again. We are come once more, thank God! to its most charming chapter. The violets and the Mayflowers are as its inscriptions or vignettes. It always makes a pleasant impression on us, when we open again at these pages of the book of life.

The older I get the more I trust in the law according to which the rose and the lily bloom.

My counsel is, to force nothing, and rather to trifle and sleep away all unproductive days and hours, than on such days to compose something that will afterwards give no pleasure.

Nothing will change the fact that I cannot produce the least thing without absolute solitude.