Are Not Poets Men Who Fulfill Their

The Mind, Too, Has Its Regimen. It Needs Gymnastics, Just Like The Body Does.

A Penniless Man Who Has No Ties To Bind Him Is Master Of Himself At Any Rate, But A Luckless Wretch Who Is In Love No Longer Belongs To Himself, And May Not Take His Own Life. Love Makes Us Almost Sacred In Our Own Eyes; It Is The Life Of Another That We Revere Within Us; Then And So Begins For Us The Cruelest Trouble Of All.

A Vocation Is Born To Us All; Happily Most Of Us Meet Promptly Our Twin,--occupation.

From The Manner In Which A Woman Draws Her Thread At Every Stitch Of Her Needlework, Any Other Woman Can Surmise Her Thoughts.

In All Lands, Sailors Form A Race Apart. They Profess A Congenital Contempt For Landlubbers. As For The Tradesman, He Understands Nothing Of Sailors Nor Cares A Fig About Them. He Is Content To Rob Them If He Can.