Sadness is a vice.

“I refuse to consider Art a drain-pipe for passion, a kind of chamberpot, a slig…”

“Having no intercourse with anyone, she lived in the torpid state of a sleep-wal…”

“Love, to her, was something hat comes suddenly, like a blinding flash of lighte…”

“As for the piano, the faster her fingers flew over it, the more he marveled. Sh…”