It Was The Touch Of The Imperfect

You Have Never Loved Me As I Love You--never--never! Yours Is Not A Passionate Heart--your Heart Does Not Burn In A Flame! You Are, Upon The Whole, A Sort Of Fay, Or Sprite-- Not A Woman!

Everybody Is So Talented Nowadays That The Only People I Care To Honor As Deserving Real Distinction Are Those Who Remain In Obscurity.

To Dance With A Man Is To Concentrate A Twelvemonth's Regulation Fire Upon Him In The Fragment Of An Hour. To Pass To Courtship Without Acquaintance, To Pass To Marriage Without Courtship, Is A Skipping Of Terms Reserved For Those Alone Who Tread This Royal Road.

You Are Absolutely The Most Ethereal, Least Sensual Woman I Ever Knew To Exist Without Inhuman Sexlessness.

Bless Thy Simplicity, Tess