The Literary World Is Made Up Of

I've Had It With You And Your Emotional Constipation!

Other Men Are Known To Posterity Only Through The Medium Of History, Which Is Continually Growing Faint And Obscure; But The Intercourse Between The Author And His Fellow-men Is Ever New, Active, And Immediate.

He Who Wins A Thousand Common Hearts Is Entitled To Some Renown; But He Who Keeps Undisputed Sway Over The Heart Of A Coquette Is Indeed A Hero.

Nature Seems To Delight In Disappointing The Assuduities Of Art, With Which It Would Rear Dulness To Maturity, And To Glory In The Vigor And Luxuriance Of Her Chance Productions. She Scatters The Seeds Of Genius To The Winds, And Though Some May Perish Among The Stony Places Of The World, And Some May Be Choked By The Thorns And Brambles Of Early Adversity, Yet Others Will Now And Then Strike Root Even In The Clefts Of The Rock, Struggle Bravely Up Into Sunshine, And Spread Over Their Sterile Birthplace All The Beauties Of Vegetation.

It Was Shakespeare's Notion That On This Day Birds Begin To Couple; Hence Probably Arose The Custom Of Sending Fancy Love-billets.