Women Are Ever The Dupes Or The

Happiness Lends Poetic Charms To Woman, And Dress Adorns Her Like A Delicate Tinge Of Rouge.

Perhaps It Is Only Human Nature To Inflict Suffering On Anything That Will Endure Suffering, Whether By Reason Of Its Genuine Humility, Or Indifference, Or Sheer Helplessness.

[raphael's] Great Superiority Is Due To The Instinctive Sense Which, In Him, Seems To Desire To Shatter Form. Form Is, In His Figures, What It Is In Ourselves, An Interpreter For The Communication Of Ideas And Sensations, An Exhaustless Source Of Poetic Inspiration. Every Figure Is A World In Itself, A Portrait Of Which The Original Appeared In A Sublime Vision, In A Flood Of Light, Pointed To By An Inward Voice, Laid Bare By A Divine Finger Which Showed What The Sources Of Expression Had Been In The Whole Past Life Of The Subject.

The Habits Of Every Animal Are, At Least In The Eyes Of Man, Constantly Similar In All Ages. But The Habits, The Clothes, The Words And The Dwelling Of A Prince, A Banker, An Artist, A Bourgeois, A Priest And A Pauper, Are Wholly Dissimilar And Change At The Will Of Civilizations.

Death Unites As Well As Separates; It Silences All Paltry Feeling.