Watch That Boy. He's Going To Startle

I Thought Of All Those Heroines Of Fiction Who Looked Pretty When They Cried, And What A Contrast I Must Make With A Blotched And Swollen Face, And Red Rims To My Eyes.

How Pleasant,' Dona Said, Peeling Her Fruit; 'the Rest Of Us Can Only Run Away From Time To Time, And However Much We Pretend To Be Free, We Know It Is Only For A Little While - Our Hands And Our Feet Are Tied.

Here Was The Freedom I Desired, Long Sought-for, Not Yet Known Freedom To Write, To Walk, To Wander, Freedom To Climb Hills, To Pull A Boat, To Be Alone.

All Whispers And Echoes From A Past That Is Gone Teem Into The Sleeper's Brain, And He Is With Them, And Part Of Them.

I Suppose Sooner Or Later In The Life Of Everyone Comes A Moment Of Trial. We All Of Us Have Our Particular Devil Who Rides Us And Torments Us, And We Must Give Battle In The End.