My Love Had Grown One With My

Of Two Friends, One Is Always The Slave Of The Other, Although Frequently Neither Acknowledges The Fact To Himself.

We Practically Always Excuse Things When We Understand Them

An Unusual Beginning Must Have An Unusual End.

There Are Two Men In Me--one Lives In The Full Sense Of The Word, The Other Reasons And Passes Judgment On The First. The First Will Perhaps Take Leave Of You And The World Forever In An Hour Now; And The Second . . . The Second?

The History Of A Man's Soul, Even The Pettiest Soul, Is Hardly Less Interesting And Useful Than The History Of A Whole People; Especially When The Former Is The Result Of The Observations Of A Mature Mind Upon Itself, And Has Been Written Without Any Egotistical Desire Of Arousing Sympathy Or Astonishment. Rousseau's Confessions Has Precisely This Defect – He Read It To His Friends.