You Can Judge Your Age By The

Music Is Not Technique And Melody, But The Meaning Of Life Itself, Infinitely Sorrowful And Unbearably Beautiful.

Yet There Were Times When He Did Love Her With All The Kindness She Demanded, And How Was She To Know What Were Those Times? Alone She Raged Against His Cheerfulness And Put Herself At The Mercy Of Her Own Love And Longed To Be Free Of It Because It Made Her Less Than He And Dependent On Him. But How Could She Be Free Of Chains She Had Put Upon Herself? Her Soul Was All Tempest. The Dreams She Had Once Had Of Her Life Were Dead. She Was In Prison In The House. And Yet Who Was Her Jailer Except Herself?

It Is Easy To Overthrow A Government But Very Difficult To Build A New One.

As For New York City, It Is A Place Apart. There Is Not Its Match In Any Other Country In The World.

It Is Worse Than Folly... Not To Recognize The Truth, For In It Lies The Tinder For Tomorrow.