A Bird With A Broken Wing Was

She Looked Into The Distance, And The Old Terror Flamed Up For An Instant, Then Sank Again. Edna Heard Her Father's Voice And Her Sister Margaret's. She Heard The Barking Of An Old Dog That Was Chained To The Sycamore Tree. The Spurs Of The Cavalry Officer Clanged As He Walked Across The Porch. There Was The Hum Of Bees, And The Musky Odor Of Pinks Filled The Air. (last Lines)

The Way To Become Rich Is To Make Money, Not To Save It.

I Wonder If Anyone Else Has An Ear So Tuned And Sharpened As I Have, To Detect The Music, Not Of The Spheres, But Of Earth, Subtleties Of Major And Minor Chord That The Wind Strikes Upon The Tree Branches. Have You Ever Heard The Earth Breathe?

But Whatever Came, She Had Resolved Never Again To Belong To Another Than Herself.

But The Beginning Of Things, Of A World Especially, Is Necessarily Vague, Tangled, Chaotic, And Exceedingly Disturbing. How Few Of Us Ever Emerge From Such Beginning! How Many Souls Perish In Its Tumult!