farewell' is a monster among words, and never yet sounded kindly in any ear.

Ceaseless as the interminable voices of the bell-cricket, all night till dawn my tears flow.

Beauty without colour seems somehow to belong to another world.

No art or learning is to be pursued halfheartedly...and any art worth learning will certainly reward more or less generously the effort made to study it.

farewell' is a monster among words, and never yet sounded kindly in any ear.

A night of endless dreams, inconsequent and wild, is this my life; none more worth telling than the rest.

One ought not to be unkind to a woman merely on account of her plainness, any more than one had a right to take liberties with her merely because she was handsome