The Cat Is A Dilettante In Fur.

Eyes So Transparent That Through Them The Soul Is Seen.

I Am One Of Those For Whom Superfluity Is A Necessity.

The Years I Have Squandered In Puerile Excitement, In Going Hither And Thither, In Seeking To Force Nature And Time, I Ought To Have Spent In Solitude And Meditation, In Endeavoring To Make Myself Worthy Of Being Loved.

Whatever May Have Been Said Of The Satiety Of Pleasure And Of The Disgust Which Usually Follows Passion, Any Man Who Has Anything Of A Heart And Who Is Not Wretchedly And Hopelessly Blasé Feels His Love Increased By His Happiness, And Very Often The Best Way To Retain A Lover Ready To Leave Is To Give One's Self Up To Him Without Reserve.

I Was Born To Travel And Write Verse.