He Was A Silent Fury Who No

Mercedes Nursed A Special Grievance - The Grievance Of Sex. She Was Pretty And Soft, And Had Been Chivalrously Treated All Her Days. But The Present Treatment By Her Husband And Brother Was Everything Save Chivalrous. It Was Her Custom To Be Helpless. They Complained. Upon Which Impeachment Of What To Her Was Her Most Essential Sex Pregorative, She Made Their Lives Unendurable.

Then One Can't Make A Living Out Of Poetry? Certainly Not. What Fool Expects To? Out Of Rhyming, Yes.

There Is Such A Thing As Anaesthesia Of Pain, Engendered By Pain Too Exquisite To Be Borne.

Some Sorts Of Truth Are Truer Than Others.

I Would Rather Be Ashes Than Dust! I Would Rather That My Spark Should Burn Out In A Brilliant Blaze Than It Should Be Stifled By Dry-rot. I Would Rather Be A Superb Meteor, Every Atom Of Me In Magnificent Glow, Than A Sleepy And Permanent Planet. The Function Of Man Is To Live, Not To Exist. I Shall Not Waste My Days Trying To Prolong Them. I Shall Use My Time.