A Dreamer, I Walked Enchanted, And Nothing

Women Want Love To Be A Novel, Men A Short Story.

Watch That Boy. He's Going To Startle Somebody Someday.

[referring To The Birds:] Nat Listened To The Tearing Sound Of Splintering Wood, And Wondered How Many Million Years Of Memory Were Stored In Those Little Brains, Behind The Stabbing Beaks, The Piercing Eyes, Now Giving Them This Instinct To Destroy Mankind With All The Deft Precision Of Machines.

I Held Out My Arms To Him And He Came To Me Like A Child.

I Am Glad It Cannot Happen Twice, The Fever Of First Love. For It Is A Fever, And A Burden, Too, Whatever The Poets May Say.