We Have Buried So Much Of The

Sleep Is Still Most Perfect, In Spite Of Hygienists, When It Is Shared With A Beloved.

Not That The Red Indian Will Ever Possess The Broad Lands Of America. At Least I Presume Not. But His Ghost Will.

A Woman Needn't Be Dragged Down By Her Functions.

Life And Love Are Life And Love, A Bunch Of Violets Is A Bunch Of Violets, And To Drag In The Idea Of A Point Is To Ruin Everything. Live And Let Live, Love And Let Love, Flower And Fade, And Follow The Natural Curve, Which Flows On, Pointless.

A Book Lives As Long As It Is Unfathomed.