The Lost Glove Is Happy.

I Am Not, And Never Was, And Never Could Have Been, A Brutal Scoundrel.

I Have The European Urge To Use My Feet When A Drive Can Be Dispensed With.

- Might It Console You To Know That I Expect Nothing But Torture From Her Return? That I Regard You As A Bird Of Paradise? She Shook Her Head. - That My Admiration For You Is Painfully Strong? - I Want Van – She Cried – And Not Intangible Admiration. - Intangible? You Goose. You My Gauge It, You May Brush It Once Very Lightly With The Knuckles Of You Gloved Hand. I Said Knuckles. I Said Once. That Will Do. I Can't Kiss You. Not Even Your Burning Face. Good-bye, Pet. Tell Edmond To Take A Nap After He Returns. I Shall Need Him At Two In The Morning.

Caress The Detail, The Divine Detail.

Literature And Butterflies Are The Two Sweetest Passions Known To Man.