After All, It Is Not Where One

Life Is Not To Be Told, Call It As Loud As You Like, It Will Not Tell Itself.

One Cup Poured Into Another Makes Different Waters; Tears Shed By One Eye Would Blind If Wept Into Another's Eye. The Breast We Strike In Joy Is Not The Breast We Strike In Pain; Any Man's Smile Would Be Consternation On Another's Mouth.

Yes, We Who Are Full To The Gorge With Misery Should Look Well Around, Doubting Everything Seen, Done, Spoken, Precisely Because We Have A Word For It, And Not Its Alchemy

The Unendurable Is The Beginning Of The Curve Of Joy.

The Very Condition Of Woman Is So Subject To Hazard, So Complex, And So Grievous, That To Place Her At One Moment Is But To Displace Her At The Next.