It Was A Good Thing To Have

There Is A Passion For Hunting Something Deeply Implanted In The Human Breast.

Your Sex Have Such A Surprising Animosity Against One Another, When You Do Differ.

He Lived In Chambers That Had Once Belonged To His Deceased Partner. They Were A Gloomy Suite Of Rooms, In A Lowering Pile Of Building Up A Yard, Where It Had So Little Business To Be, That One Could Scarcely Help Fancying It Must Have Run There When It Was A Young House, Playing At Hide-and-seek With Other Houses, And Forgotten The Way Out Again.

"it Wasn't The Wine," Murmured Mr. Snodgrass, In A Broken Voice. "it Was The Salmon."

Look Round And Round Upon This Bare Bleak Plain, And See Even Here, Upon A Winter's Day, How Beautiful The Shadows Are! Alas! It Is The Nature Of Their Kind To Be So. The Loveliest Things In Life... Are But Shadows; And They Come And Go, And Change And Fade Away, As Rapidly As These.