I cannot enjoy my walks, because there is no one to meet.

I cannot enjoy my books, because they have not power to arrest my attention: my head is so haunted with the recollections of the last few weeks, that I cannot attend to them.

My drawing suits me best, for I can draw and think at the same time; and if my productions cannot now be seen by any one but myself, and those who do not care about them, they, possibly, may be, hereafter.

But, then, there is one face I am always trying to paint or to sketch, and always without success; and that vexes me.

As for the owner of that face, I cannot get him out of my mind--and, indeed, I never try.