I Can Draw And Write, And You'd

“god,” She Cried, “what Is Love? Man Seeking His Own Head? The Human Head, So Rented By Misery That Even The Teeth Weigh! She Couldn't Tell Me The Truth Because She Had Never Planned It; Her Life Was A Continual Accident, And How Can You Be Prepared For That? Everything We Can't Bear In This World, Some Day We Find In One Person, And Love It All At Once.”

The Night Is A Skin Pulled Over The Head Of Day That The Day May Be In Torment.

We Are Adhering To Life Now With Our Last Muscle - The Heart.

I Have Been Loved,' She Said, 'by Something Strange, And It Has Forgotten Me.

We Are Beginning To Wonder Whether A Servant Girl Hasn't The Best Of It After All. She Knows How The Salad Tastes Without The Dressing, And She Knows How Life's Lived Before It Gets To The Parlor Door.