By Dint Of Making Sacrifices, A Man

I Do Not Regard A Broker As A Member Of The Human Race.

Several Sorts Of Memory Exist In Us; Body And Mind Each Possesses One Peculiar To Itself. Nostalgia, For Instance, Is A Malady Of The Physical Memory.

A Woman Questions The Man Who Loves Exactly As A Judge Questions A Criminal. This Being So, A Flash Of The Eye, A Mere Word, An Inflection Of The Voice Or A Moment's Hesitation Suffice To Expose The Fact, Betrayal Or Crime He Is Attempting To Conceal.

Woman Is A Delightful Instrument Of Pleasure, But It Is Necessary To Know Its Trembling Strings, To Study The Position Of Them, The Timid Keyboard, The Fingering So Changeful And Capricious Which Befits It.

The Art Of Motherhood Involves Much Silent, Unobtrusive Self-denial, An Hourly Devotion Which Finds No Detail Too Minute.