Why Shouldn't We, So Generally Addicted To The Gigantic, At Last Have Some Small Works Of Art, Some Short Poems, Short Pieces Of Music [...], Some Intimate, Low-voiced, And Delicate Things In Our Mostly Huge And Roaring, Glaring World?
The Delicate And Infirm Go For Sympathy, Not To The Well And Buoyant, But To Those Who Have Suffered Like Themselves.
The Devil Put Before Me That I Could Not Endure The Trials Of The Religious Life, Because Of My Delicate Nurture. I Defended Myself Against Him By Alleging The Trials Which Christ Endured, And That It Was Not Much For Me To Suffer Something For His Sake; Besides, He Would Help Me To Bear It.
