"Yes," I answered you last night; "No," this morning, Sir, I say. Colours seen by candlelight, Will not look the same by day. - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

OF writing many books there is no end;
And I who have written much in prose and verse
For others' uses, will write now for mine,-
Will write my story for my better self,
As when you paint your portrait for a friend,
Who keeps it in a drawer and looks at it
Long after he has ceased to love you, just
To hold together what he was and is.

Our Balzac should be flattered beyond measure by my thinking of him at all. Which I did, but of you more.

Dreams of doing good
For good-for-nothing people.