I Was A Blacksmith's Boy But Yesterday;

She Was Truest To Them In The Season Of Trial, As All The Quietly Loyal And Good Will Always Be.

... The Woman Who Grows Up With The Idea That She Is Simply To Be An Amiable Animal, To Be Caressed And Coaxed, Is Invariably A Bitterly Disappointed Woman. A Game Of Chess Will Cure Such A Conceit Forever. The Woman That Knows The Most, Thinks The Most, Feels The Most, Is The Most. Intellectual Affection Is The Only Lasting Love. Love That Has A Game Of Chess In It Can Checkmate Any Man And Solve The Problem Of Life.

"i Know Quite Enough Of Myself," Said Bella, With A Charming Air Of Being Inclined To Give Herself Up As A Bad Job, "and I Don't Improve Upon Acquaintance..."

The Man Who Now Confronted Gashford, Was A Squat, Thickset Personage, With A Low, Retreating Forehead, A Coarse Shock Head Of Hair, And Eyes So Small And Near Together, That His Broken Nose Alone Seemed To Prevent Their Meeting And Fusing Into One Of The Usual Size.

Dead, Your Majesty. Dead, My Lords And Gentlemen. Dead, Right Reverends And Wrong Reverends Of Every Order. Dead, Men And Women, Born With Heavenly Compassion In Your Hearts. And Dying Thus Around Us Every Day.