Though We Speak Nonsense, God Will Pick

Would Time But Await The Close Of Our Favorite Follies, We Should All Be Young Men, All Of Us, And Until Doom's Day.

It Is A Curious Subject Of Observation And Inquiry, Whether Hatred And Love Be Not The Same Thing At Bottom.

Romance And Poetry, Ivy, Lichens And Wallflowers Need Ruin To Make Them Grow.

I Do Detest All Offices - All, At Least, That Are Held On A Political Tenure.

Or-but This More Rarely Happened-she Would Be Convulsed With A Rage Of Grief, And Sob Out Her Love For Her Mother, In Broken Words, And Seem Intent On Proving That She Had A Heart, By Breaking It.