A freshet in the autumn does not compensate for a drought in the spring.
I do not allow myself vain regrets or foreboding.
Oh, if I could put some of my reckless spirit into these discreet cautious lazy men!
Richmond has fallen - and I have no heart to write about it... They are too many for us. Everything lost in Richmond, even our archives. Blue-black is our horizon.
Women--wives and mothers--are the same everywhere.
I do not write often now - not for want of something to say, but from a loathing of all I see and hear. Why dwell upon it?