Sublime

Maud,

Maybe I’m a little like the grown-ups. I must have got older.

scarcely think there is a greater sin, Lucy,” he said, solemnly, “than that of a woman who marries a man she does not love.

lamp-post in the middle: and no grass, but the weeds which spring up round its base. It is a quiet, little-frequented, retired spot, favourable to melancholy and contemplation, and appointments of long-waiting;

The Diary of Anaïs Nin—five