Hebe's Here, May Is Here! The Air

We Knew It Would Rain, For The Poplars Showed The White Of Their Leaves, The Amber Grain Shrunk In The Wind,-and The Lightning Now Is Tangled In Tremulous Skeins Of Rain.

The Possession Of Gold Has Ruined Fewer Men Than The Lack Of It.

My Father Invested His Money So Securely In The Banking Business That He Was Never Able To Get Any Of It Out Again.

I Like Not Lady-slippers, Nor Yet The Sweet-pea Blossoms, Nor Yet The Flaky Roses, Red Or White As Snow; I Like The Chaliced Lilies, The Heavy Eastern Lilies, The Gorgeous Tiger-lilies, That In Our Garden Grow.

A Glance, A Word -- And Joy Or Pain Befalls.... How Slight The Links Are In The Chain That Binds Us To Our Destiny!