Women Accept Their Destiny More Readily Than

What Is It, Angel?" She Said, Starting Up. "have They Come For Me?" "yes, Dearest," He Said. "they Have Come." "it Is As It Should Be," She Murmured. "angel, I Am Almost Glad—yes, Glad! This Happiness Could Not Have Lasted. It Was Too Much. I Have Had Enough; And Now I Shall Not Live For You To Despise Me!" She Stood Up, Shook Herself, And Went Forward, Neither Of The Men Having Moved. "i Am Ready," She Said Quietly.

Where We Are Would Be Paradise To Me, If You Would Only Make It So.

Thoroughly Convinced Of The Impossibility Of His Own Suit, A High Resolve Constrained Him Not To Injure That Of Another. This Is A Lover's Most Stoical Virtue, As The Lack Of It Is A Lover's Most Venial Sin.

That Mercy Towards One Set Of Creatures Was Cruelty Towards Another Sickened His Sense Of Harmony. As You Got Older, And Felt Yourself To Be At The Center Of Your Time, And Not At A Point In Its Circumference, As You Had Felt When You Were Little, You Were Seized With A Sort Of Shuddering, He Perceived. All Around You There Seemed To Be Something Glaring, Garish, Rattling, And The Noises And Glares Hit Upon The Little Cell Called Your Life, And Shook It, And Warped It.

That Man's Silence Is Wonderful To Listen To.