Who would wish to be among the commonplace crowd of the little famous - who are each individually lost in a throng made up of themselves?

The world is too brutal for me-I am glad there is such a thing as the grave-I am sure I shall never have any rest till I get there.

Death is Life's high meed.

My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.

Of love, that fairest joys give most unrest.

I must choose between despair and Energy──I choose the latter.

The Public - a thing I cannot help looking upon as an enemy, and which I cannot address without feelings of hostility.