Romanticism Is The Abuse Of Adjectives

What I Need Is A Woman Who Is Something, Anything: Either Very Beautiful Or Very Kind Or In The Last Resort Very Wicked; Very Witty Or Very Stupid, But Something.

A Lively Retrospect Summons Back To Us Once More Our Youth, With Vivid Reflex Of Its Early Joys And Unstained Pleasures.

Oh! My Friend, When You Feel Bursting On Your Lips The Vow Of Eternal Love, Do Not Be Afraid To Yield, But Do Not Confound Wine With Intoxication; Do Not Think The Cup Divine Because The Draft Is Of Celestial Flavor; Do Not Be Astonished To Find It Broken And Empty In The Evening.

The Return Makes One Love The Farewell.

I Could Not Clearly Distinguish What Was Passing In My Head; It Seemed To Me That I Was Under The Influence Of A Horrible Dream And That I Had But To Awake To Find Myself Cured; At Times It Seemed That My Entire Life Had Been A Dream, Ridiculous And Childish, The Falseness Of Which Had Just Been Disclosed.