Perhaps This Very Instant Is Your Time.

The Terrible Beast, That No One May Understand, Came To My Side, And Put Down His Head In Love.

The Measured Blood Beats Out The Year's Delay.

Up From The Bronze, I Saw Water Without A Flaw Rush To Its Rest In Air Reach To Its Rest, And Fall.

But Is There Any Reason To Believe That A Woman's Spiritual Fibre Is Less Sturdy Than A Man's? Is It Not Possible For A Woman To Come To Terms With Herself If Not With The World; To Withdraw More And More, As Time Goes On, Her Own Personality From Her Productions; To Stop Childish Fears Of Death And Eschew Charming Rebellions Against Facts?

Stupidity Always Accompanies Evil. Or Evil, Stupidity.