I Do Regard Her As One Who

Pity Is For This Life, Pity Is The Worm Inside The Meat, Pity Is The Meat, Pity Is The Shaking Pencil, Pity Is The Shaking Voice-- Not Enough Money, Not Enough Love--pity For All Of Us--it Is Our Grace, Walking Down The Ramp Or On The Moving Sidewalk, Sitting In A Chair, Reading The Paper, Pity, Turning A Leaf To The Light, Arranging A Thorn.

Where The Wound Had Been Given, There Must The Cure Be Found, If Any Where.

A Lucky Guess Is Never Merely Luck. There Is Always Some Talent In It.

She Was Stronger Alone.

It Is Very Often Nothing But Our Own Vanity That Deceives Us.