Friendship, I Fancy, Means One Heart Between

The Song Seraphically Free Of Taint Of Personality, So Pure That It Salutes The Suns The Voice Of One For Millions, In Whom The Millions Rejoice For Giving Their One Spirit Voice.

She Whom I Love Is Hard To Catch And Conquer, Hard, But O The Glory Of The Winning Were She Won!

George Eliot Has The Heart Of Sappho; But The Face, With The Long Proboscis, The Protruding Teeth Of The Apocalyptic Horse, Betrayed Animality.

Observation Is The Most Enduring Of The Pleasures Of Life.

But O The Truth, The Truth. The Many Eyes That Look On It The Diverse Things They See.