I do not know what I may appear to the world， but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea-shore， and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary， whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.
Literature is a false representation of life that nevertheless helps us to understand life better, to orient ourselves in the labyrinth where we are born, pass, and die.
