Last Night, I Was On The Threshold

A Person Who Has Not Done One Half His Day's Work By Ten O Clock, Runs A Chance Of Leaving The Other Half Undone.

He Turned, As He Spoke, A Peculiar Look In Her Direction, A Look Of Hatred Unless He Has A Most Perverse Set Of Facial Muscles That Will Not, Like Those Of Other People, Interpret The Language Of His Soul.

You Have Left Me So Long To Struggle Against Death, Alone, That I Feel And See Only Death! I Feel Like Death!

It’s No Company At All, When People Know Nothing And Say Nothing,’ She Muttered.

How Strange! I Thought, Though Everybody Hated And Despised Each Other, They Could Not Avoid Loving Me.