It Seems Strange To Think, That What

But The Monotonous Life Led By Invalids Often Makes Them Like Children, Inasmuch As Thy Have Neither Of Them Any Sense Of Proportion In Events, And Seem Each To Believe That The Walls And Curtains Which Shut In Their World, And Shut Out Everything Else, Must Of Necessity Be Larger Than Anything Hidden Beyond.

One May Be Clogged With Honey And Unable To Rise And Fly.

Of All Faults The One She Most Despised In Others Was The Want Of Bravery; The Meanness Of Heart Which Leads To Untruth.

She Lay Down And Never Stirred. To Move Hand Or Foot, Or Even So Much As One Finger, Would Have Been An Exertion Beyond The Powers Of Either Volition Or Motion. She Was So Tired, So Stunned, That She Thought She Never Slept At All; Her Feverish Thoughts Passed And Repassed The Boundary Between Sleeping And Waking, And Kept Their Own Miserable Identity.

He Shook Hands With Margaret. He Knew It Was The First Time Their Hands Had Met, Though She Was Perfectly Unconscious Of The Fact.