What Was The Use Of Trying To

A Fine Morning's Killing, Ay! All Their Necks Wrung - All Dead Birds! Once They Could Fly - Fly And Swim! Fly And Swim! All Dead Now - And Sold Cheap In The Open Market!

Imagination Is The Supreme Endowment Of The Poet And Romanticist. It Is A Kind Of Second Sight, Which Conveys The Owner Of It To Places He Has Never Seen, And Surrounds Him With Strange Circumstances Of Which He Is Merely The Spiritual Eyewitness.

The World Is Not Always Kind To A Clever Woman Even When She Is Visibly Known To Be Earning Her Own Living. There Are Always Spiteful Tongues Wagging In The Secret Corners And Byways, Ready To Assert That Her Work Is Not Her Own And And That Some Man Is In The Background, Helping To Keep Her!

Hate Is A Grand, A Strong Quality! It Makes Nations, It Builds Up Creeds! If Men Loved One Another What Should They Need Of A Church?

Years Should Be Nothing To You. Who Asked You To Count Them Or Consider Them? In The World Of Wild Nature, Time Is Measured By Seasons Only-the Bird Does Not Know How Old It Is-the Rose-tree Does Not Count Its Birthdays!