A Farmer's Got To Be Born, Same

My First Reading Of Tolstoy Affected Me As A Revelation From Heaven, As The Trumpet Of The Judgment. What He Made Me Feel Was Notthe Desire To Imitate, But The Conviction That Imitation Was Futile.

Tilling The Fertile Soil Of Man's Vanity.

In Her Single Person She Managed To Produce The Effect Of A Majority.

Youth Is The Period Of Harsh Judgments, And A Man Seldom Learns Until He Reaches Thirty That Human Nature Is Made Up Not Of Simples, But Of Compounds.

The Hardest Thing For Me Is The Sense Of Impermanence. All Passes; Nothing Returns.