Ballet Is A Dance Executed By The

My Dreams, My Dreams! What Has Become Of Their Sweetness? What Indeed Has Become Of My Youth?

In This, Our Age Of Infamy Man's Choice Is But To Be A Tyrant, Traitor, Prisoner: No Other Choice Has He.

Thus People--so It Seems To Me-- Become Good Friends From Sheer Ennui.

I Loved You; Even Now I May Confess, Some Embers Of My Love Their Fire Retain; But Do Not Let It Cause You More Distress, I Do Not Want To Sadden You Again. Hopeless And Tongue Tied, Yet I Loved You Dearly With Pangs The Jealous And The Timid Know; So Tenderly I Loved You, So Sincerely, I Pray God Grant Another Love You So.

Inspiration Is Needed In Geometry, Just As Much As In Poetry.