Earth's Noblest Thing,-a Woman Perfected.

Ez Fer War, I Call It Murder,- There You Hev It Plain An' Flat; I Don't Want To Go No Furder Than My Testyment Fer That. . . . . . An' You 've Gut To Git Up Airly Ef You Want To Take In God.

Granting Our Wish Is One Of Fate's Saddest Jokes.

Toward No Crimes Have Men Shown Themselves So Cold- Bloodedly Cruel As In Punishing Differences Of Belief.

The Nurse Of Full-grown Souls Is Solitude.

The Greater Your Real Strength And Power, The Quieter It Will Be Exercised.