Men Ruin Themselves Headlong For Unworthy Women.

I Say What Other People Only Think, And When All The Rest Of The World Is In A Conspiracy To Accept The Mask For The True Face, Mine Is The Rash Hand That Tears Off The Plump Pasteboard And Shows The Bare Bones Beneath.

Where Is The Woman Who Has Ever Really Torn From Her Heart The Image That Has Been Once Fixed In It By A True Love? Books Tell Us That Such Unearthly Creatures Have Existed - But What Does Our Own Experiences Say In Answer To Books?

Husbands And Wives Talk Of The Cares Of Matrimony, And Bachelors And Spinsters Bear Them.

I Haven't Much Time To Be Fond Of Anything. But When I Have A Moment's Fondness To Bestow, Most Times The Roses Get It.

My Hour For Tea Is Half-past Five, And My Buttered Toast Waits For Nobody.