The Streets Looked Small, Of Course. The

The Night Crept On Apace, The Moon Went Down, The Stars Grew Pale And Dim, And Morning, Cold As They, Slowly Approached. Then, From Behind A Distant Hill, The Noble Sun Rose Up, Driving The Mists In Phantom Shapes Before It, And Clearing The Earth Of Their Ghostly Forms Till Darkness Came Again.

When Men Are About To Commit, Or Sanction The Commission Of Some Injustice, It Is Not Uncommon For Them To Express Pity For The Object Either Of That Or Some Parallel Proceeding, And To Feel Themselves, At The Time, Quite Virtuous And Moral, And Immensely Superior To Those Who Express No Pity At All. This Is A Kind Of Upholding Of Faith Above Works, And Is Very Comfortable.

The Aim Of Talk Should Be Like The Aim Of A Flying Arrow -- To Hit The Mark; But To This End There Must Be A Mark To Hit, That Is, There Must Be A Listener.

I Hope That Real Love And Truth Are Stronger In The End Than Any Evil Or Misfortune In The World.

Veels Vithin Veels, A Prison In A Prison.