Woman's Reason Is In The Milk Of

Days, When The Ball Of Our Vision Had Eagles That Flew Unabashed To Sun; When The Graps On The Bow Was Decision, And Arrow And Hand And Eye Were One; When The Pleasures, Like Waves To A Swimmer, Came Heaving For Rapture Ahead! - Invoke Them, They Dwindle, They Glimmer As Lights Over Mounds Of The Dead.

The Stench Of The Trail Of Ego In Our History. It Is Ego - Ego, The Fountain Cry, Origin, Sole Source Of War.

Kissing Don't Last: Cookery Do!

What A Woman Thinks Of Women Is The Test Of Her Nature.

A Human Act Once Set In Motion Flows On Forever To The Great Account. Our Deathlessness Is In What We Do, Not In What We Are.