And Yet Her Name Was Like A

The Supreme Question About A Work Of Art Is Out Of How Deep A Life Does It Spring.

Always See A Fellows Weak Point In His Wife.

Thanks Be To God We Lived So Long And Did So Much Good.

[a Writer Is] A Priest Of Eternal Imagination, Transmuting The Daily Bread Of Experience Into The Radiant Body Of Everliving Life.

Lily, The Caretaker's Daughter, Was Literally Run Off Her Feet. Hardly Had She Brought One Gentleman Into The Little Pantry Behind The Office On The Ground Floor And Helped Him Off With His Overcoat, Than The Wheezy Hall-door Bell Clanged Again And She Had To Scamper Along The Bare Hallway To Let In Another Guest. It Was Well For Her She Had Not To Attend To The Ladies Also.