...to Be Paid For One's Joy Is

I Have Seen Lonely People Of Advancing Age, Yet As Constant As Angels, Keeping Faith To Those They Loved Who Fell In Wars That Current Generations, Not Having Known Them, Cannot Even Forget. The Sight Of Them Moving Hesitantly Among The Tablets And Crosses Is Enough To Break Your Heart.

And If You Were A Spirit, And Time Did Not Bind You, And Patience And Love Were All You Knew, Then There You Would Wait For Someone To Return, And The Story To Unfold.

For What Can Be Imagined More Beautiful Than The Sight Of A Perfectly Just City Rejoicing In Justice Alone.

'freeing' A Literary Work Into The Public Domain Is Less A Public Benefit Than A Transfer Of Wealth From The Families Of American Writers To The Executives And Stockholders Of Various Businesses Who Will Continue To Profit From, For Example, 'the Garden Party,' While The Descendants Of Katherine Mansfield Will Not.

Words Were All He Knew; They Possessed And Overwhelmed Him, As If They Were A Thousand White Cats With Whom He Shared A One-room Apartment.