I do not see any beauty in self-restraint.
I want fame more than I can tell. But more than I want fame I want happiness.
I was born to be alone, and I always shall be but now I want to be.
Fame is indeed beautiful and benign and gentle and satisfying, but happiness is something at once tender and brilliant beyond all things.
And it is in New York I have those strangest things of all: human friendships. Not many friendships and not of spent familiarities: for I don't like actual human beings too much around me. But yet fri...