In Seasons Of Pestilence, Some Of Us

Most Men Are Individuals No Longer So Far As Their Business, Its Activities, Or Its Moralities Are Concerned. They Are Not Units But Fractions.

I Thought It Very Touching To See These Two Women, Coarse And Shabby And Beaten, So United; To See What They Could Be To One Another; To See How They Felt For One Another, How The Heart Of Each To Each Was Softened By The Hard Trials Of Their Lives. I Think The Best Side Of Such People Is Almost Hidden From Us. What The Poor Are To The Poor Is Little Known, Excepting To Themselves And God.

I Could Settle Down Into A State Of Equable Low Spirits, And Resign Myself To Coffee.

If You Will Take Me For Your Wife, Walter, I Will Love You Dearly. If You Will Let Me Go With You, Walter, I Will Go To The World's End Without Fear. I Can Give Up Nothing For You - I Have Nothing To Resign, And No One To Forsake; But All My Love And Life Shall Be Devoted To You, And With My Last Breath I Will Breathe Your Name To God If I Have Sense And Memory Left.

Huge Knots Of Sea-weed Hung Upon The Jagged And Pointed Stones, Trembling In Every Breath Of Wind; And The Green Ivy Clung Mournfully Round The Dark And Ruined Battlements. Behind It Rose The Ancient Castle, Its Towers Roofless, And Its Massive Walls Crumbling Away, But Telling Us Proudly Of Its Own Might And Strength, As When, Seven Hundred Years Ago, It Rang With The Clash Of Arms, Or Resounded With The Noise Of Feasting And Revelry.