War Is Cruelty, And None Can Make

That Which Is Loved May Pass, But Love Hath No End.

But Paying Is Part Of The Game Of Life: It Is The Joy Of Buying That We Crave.

Every Man Should Have Laws Of His Own, I Should Think; Commandments Of His Own, For Every Man Has A Different Set Of Circumstances Wherein To Work - Or Worry.

There Is No Refuge From Memory And Remorse In This World. The Spirits Of Our Foolish Deeds Haunt Us, With Or Without Repentance.

The Music Throbbed In A Voice Of Singular And Delicate Power; The Air Was Resonant With Melody, Love And Pain. The Meanest Italian In The Gallery Far Up Beneath The Ceiling, The Most Exalted Of The Land In The Boxes And The Stalls, Leaned Indulgently Forward, To Be Swept By This Sweet Storm Of Song.