At night she sleeps on vine-branches; she eats only black bread and roots, and drinks water and vinegar.

If you were to give her anything more delicate, she would be the worse for it: such is the force of habit.
"Though I have still two fine suits of clothes, I never wear them.

If you saw me, you would take me for a labourer or a shepherd, though I was once so tasteful in my dress.

The times are changed; the eyes which I wished to please are now shut; and, perhaps, even if they were opened, they would not _now_ have the same empire over me." In another letter from Vaucluse, he says: "I rise at midnight; I go out at break of day; I study in the fields as in my library; I read, I write, I dream; I struggle against indolence, luxury, and pleasure.

I wander all day among the arid mountains, the fresh valleys, and the deep caverns.