You Will Find That The Woman Who

For A Young Man, Sleep Is A Sure Solvent Of Distress. There Whirls Not For Him In The Night Any So Hideous Phantasmagoria As Will Not Become, In The Clarity Of The Next Morning, A Spruce Procession For Him To Lead. Brief The Vague Horror Of His Awakening; Memory Sweeps Back To Him, And He Sees Nothing Dreadful After All. "why Not?" Is The Sun's Bright Message To Him, And "why Not Indeed?" His Answer.

You Will Find That The Woman Who Is Really Kind To Dogs Is Always One Who Has Failed To Inspire Sympathy In Men.

I May Be Old Fashioned, But I Am Right.

I Have Known No Man Of Genius Who Had Not To Pay, In Some Affliction Or Defect, Either Physical Or Spiritual, For What The Gods Had Given Him.

"after All," As A Pretty Girl Once Said To Me, "women Are A Sex By Themselves, So To Speak."