Cruel Blows Of Fate Call For Extreme

The Tea Was A Comfort - And By That Time I More Than Needed Comfort.

Walking Down Belmotte Was The Oddest Sensation-- Every Step Took Us Deeper Into The Mist Until At Last It Closed Over Our Heads. It Was Like Being Drowned In The Ghost Of Water.

Was I The Only Woman In The World Who, At My Age - And After A Lifetime Of Quite Rampant Independence - Still Did Not Quite Feel Grown Up?

I Suppose The Best Kind Of Spring Morning Is The Best Weather God Has To Offer.

Time Takes The Ugliness And Horror Out Of Death And Turns It Into Beauty.