I Do Not Wish To Be A

There Is No More Terrible Woe Upon Earth Than The Woe Of The Stricken Brain, Which Remembers The Days Of Its Strength, The Living Light Of Its Reason, The Sunrise Of Its Proud Intelligence, And Knows That These Have Passed Away Like A Tale That Is Told.

The Song That We Hear With Our Ears Is Only The Song That Is Sung In Our Hearts.

It Is The North Wind That Lashes Men Into Vikings; It Is The Soft, Luscious South Wind Which Lulls Them To Lotus Dreams.

A Little Scandal Is An Excellent Thing; Nobody Is Ever Brighter Or Happier Of Tongue Than When He Is Making Mischief Of His Neighbors.

Women Hope That The Dead Love May Revive; But Men Know That Of All Dead Things None Are So Past Recall As A Dead Passion.