He had uttered a mad wish that he himself might remain untarnished, and the face on the canvas bear the burden of his passions and his sins; that the painted image might be seared with the lines of suffering and thought, and that he might keep all the delicate bloom and loveliness of his then just conscious boyhood.

We are specially designed to appeal to the sense of humour.

I am happy in my prison of passion

Life is not governed by will or intention. Life is a question of nerves, and fibres, and slowly built-up cells in which thought hides itself and passion has its dreams.

Every woman is a rebel.

All great ideas are dangerous.

They have been eating muffins. That looks like repentance