I Suppose Even A Woman's Hatred Is

Our Language Is Primarily For Expressing Human Goodness And Beauty.

From The Way Of Go The Beauty Of Japan And The Orient Had Fled. Everything Had Become Science And Regulation.

It's Remarkable How We Go On Year After Year, Doing The Same Old Things. We Get Tired And Bored, And Ask When They'll Come For Us

Lunatics Have No Age. If We Were Crazy, You And I, We Might Be A Great Deal Younger.

The Snow On The Distant Mountains Was Soft And Creamy, As If Veiled In A Faint Smoke.