I Haven't Much Time To Be Fond

I Am (thank God) Constitutionally Superior To Reason.

The Woman Who First Gives Life, Light, And Form To Our Shadowy Conceptions Of Beauty, Fills A Void In Our Spiritual Nature That Has Remained Unknown To Us Till She Appeared. Sympathies That Lie Too Deep For Words, Too Deep Almost For Thoughts, Are Touched, At Such Times, By Other Charms Than Those Which The Senses Feel And Which The Resources Of Expression Can Realise. The Mystery Which Underlies The Beauty Of Women Is Never Raised Above The Reach Of All Expression Until It Has Claimed Kindred With The Deeper Mystery In Our Own Souls.

Is There Any Wilderness Of Sand In The Deserts Of Arabia, Is There Any Prospect Of Desolation Among The Ruins Of Palestine, Which Can Rival The Repelling Effect On The Eye, And The Depressing Influence On The Mind, Of An English Country Town In The First Stage Of Its Existence, And In The Transition State Of Its Prosperity?

I Have Heard, As Everybody Else Has, Of A Spirit's Haunting A House ; But I Have Had My Own Personal Experience Of A House's Haunting A Spirit.

The Dull People Decided Years And Years Ago, As Everyone Knows, That Novel-writing Was The Lowest Species Of Literary Exertion, And That Novel Reading Was A Dangerous Luxury And An Utter Waste Of Time.