As long as she thinks of a man, nobody objects to a woman thinking.
But beauty must be broken daily to remain beautiful.
And again she felt alone in the presence of her old antagonist, life.
Inevitably we look upon society, so kind to you, so harsh to us, as an ill-fitting form that distorts the truth; deforms the mind; fetters the will.
In illness words seem to possess a mystic quality.
In any case life is but a procession of shadows, and God knows why it is that we embrace them so eagerly, and see them depart with such anguish, being shadows.