For us there is only one season, the season of sorrow. The very sun and moon seem taken from us.
If a man treats life artistically, his brain is his heart.
There is no doubt that genius lasts longer than beauty.
The moon in her chariot of pearl
Marco Polo had seen the inhabitants of Zipangu place rose-colored pearls in the mouths of the dead. A sea-monster had been enamoured of the pearl that the diver brought to King Perozes, and had slain the thief, and mourned for seven moons over its loss.
She wore far too much rouge last night and not quite enough clothes. That is always a sign of despair in a woman.