You Are Absolutely The Most Ethereal, Least

There Was Now A Distinct Manifestation Of Morning In The Air, And Presently The Bleared White Visage Of A Sunless Winter Day Emerged Like A Dead-born Child.

Women Are So Strange In Their Influence That They Tempt You To Misplaced Kindness.

The Beggarly Question Of Parentage--what Is It, After All? What Does It Matter, When You Come To Think Of It, Whether A Child Is Yours By Blood Or Not? All The Little Ones Of Our Time Are Collectively The Children Of Us Adults Of The Time, And Entitled To Our General Care. That Excessive Regard Of Parents For Their Own Children, And Their Dislike Of Other People's, Is, Like Class-feeling, Patriotism, Save-your-own-soul-ism, And Other Virtues, A Mean Exclusiveness At Bottom.

If The Story-tellers Could Ha' Got Decency And Good Morals From True Stories, Who'd Have Troubled To Invent Parables?

Bless Thy Simplicity, Tess