Oh we're not loved. We're not even hated. We're only just sweetly ignored. - Henry James

If the artist is necessarily sensitive, does that sensitiveness form in its essence a state constantly liable to shade off into the morbid? Does this liability, moreover, increase in proportion as the effort is great and the ambition intense?

"Madame Merle was very appreciative; she liked almost everything, including the English rain. "There is always a little of it, and never too much at once," she said; "and it never wets you, and it always smells good.

Ideas are, in truth, forces. Infinite, too, is the power of personality. A union of the two always makes history.