If Broken Hearts Could Kill, The Earth

What Was Time Itself But The Bloom, The Sheath Enfolding Experience? Within Time, And With Time Alone, There Was Life - The Gleam, The Quiver, The Heartbeat, The Immeasurable Joy And Anguish Of Being.

After A Day Of Rain The Sun Came Out Suddenly At Five O'clock And Threw A Golden Bar Into The Deep Victorian Gloom Of The Front Parlour

Doesn't All Experience Crumble In The End To Mere Literary Material?

I Haven't Much Opinion Of Words. They're Apt To Set Fire To A Dry Tongue, That's What I Say.

Like All Born Politicians, Their Eye Was For The Main Chance Rather Than For The Argument, And They Found It Easier To Forswear A Conviction Than To Forego A Comfort.