Fate Is Usually Swift When She Deals

The Weariest Night, The Longest Day, Sooner Or Later Must Perforce Come To An End.

Look At This Limp Cravet. And The Sad State Of Those Cuffs. I Can Hardly Bring Myself To Look Upon Them.

Now, When Their Glances Met, They Understood One Another. The Power That Lay Within Both Their Souls Had Met, And, As It Were, Clasped Hands. They Accepted One Another's Sacrifice. Hers, Mayhap, Was The More Complete Of The Two, Because For Her His Absence Would Mean Weary Waiting, The Dull Heartache So Terrible To Bear.

A Surging, Seething, Murmuring Crowd Of Beings That Are Human Only In Name, For To The Eye And Ear They Seem Naught But Savage Creatures, Animated By Vile Passions And By The Lust Of Vengeance And Of Hate. The Hour, Some Little Time Before Sunset, And The Place, The West Barricade, At The Very Spot Where, A Decade Later, A Proud Tyrant Raised An Undying Monument To The Nation's Glory And His Own Vanity.

I Take It, Sir, That You Do Not Approve Of Our New Society." "approval, Sir, In My Opinion, Demands The Attainment Of Perfection. And In That Sense, You Rather Overrate The Charms Of Your Society. I'faith, For One Thing, It Does Seem Monstrous Ill-dressed For Any Society, Even A New One.