Can You Think Of Anything Worse One

Passion, You See, Can Be Destroyed By A Doctor. It Cannot Be Created.

Figaro Is A Bad Play. It Stirs Up Hatred Between The Classes. In France, It Has Caused Nothing But Bitterness. My Own Dear Sister,antoinette, Writes Me That She Is Beginning To Be Frightened Of Her Own People.

I Think I Did Have Fantasies About Being An Actor. In Fact, I Know I Did.

All Reined Up In Old Language And Old Assumptions, Straining To Jump Clean-hoofed On To A Whole New Track Of Being I Only Suspect Is There. I Can't See It, Because My Educated, Average Head Is Being Held At The Wrong Angle. I Can't Jump Because The Bit Forbids It, And My Own Basic Force - My Horsepower, If You Like - Is Too Little.

What The Eye Does Not See, The Heart Does Not Grieve Over, Does It?