Row, Row, Row Your Boat. Gently Down

I Felt In Him What Women Feel In Men, Something So Tender, Swollen, Tyrannical, Absurd; I Would Never Take The Consequences Of Interfering With It.

She Keeps On Hoping From A Word From Penelope, But Not In Any Strenuous Way. She Hopes As People Who Know Better Hope For Undeserved Blessings, Spontaneous Remissions, Things Of That Sort.

In Twenty Years I've Never Had A Day When I Didn't Have To Think About Someone Else's Needs. And This Means The Writing Has To Be Fitted Around It.

As Soon As A Man And Woman Of Almost Any Age Are Alone Together Within Four Walls It Is Assumed That Anything May Happen. Spontaneous Combustion, Instant Fornication, Triumph Of The Senses. What Possibilities Men And Women Must See In Each Other To Infer Such Dangers. Or, Believing In The Dangers, How Often They Must Think About The Possibilities.

I Would ... Go Up To The Mailbox And Sit In The Grass, Waiting. ... Till It Came To Me One Day There Were Women Doing This With Their Lives, All Over. There Were Women Just Waiting And Waiting By Mailboxes For One Letter Or Another. I Imagined Me Making This Journey Day After Day And Year After Year, And My Hair Starting To Go Gray, And I Thought, I Was Never Made To Go On Like That. ... If There Were Woman All Through Life Waiting, And Women Busy And Not Waiting, I Knew Which I Had To Be.