I Am Always Thirsting For Beautiful, Beautiful,

Perhaps The Old Monks Were Right When They Tried To Root Love Out; Perhaps The Poets Are Right When They Try To Water It. It Is A Blood-red Flower, With The Color Of Sin; But There Is Always The Scent Of A God About It.

A Word May Become So Defiled By Bad Use That It Will Take A Century Before It Can Be Purifed, And Brought Into Use Again.

Power! Did You Ever Hear Of Men Being Asked Whether Other Souls Should Have Power Or Not? It Is Born In Them. You May Dam Up The Fountain Of Water, And Make It A Stagnant Marsh, Or You May Let It Run Free And Do Its Work; But You Cannot Say Whether It Shall Be There; It Is There. And It Will Act, If Not Openly For Good, Then Covertly For Evil; But It Will Act.

A Little Weeping, A Little Wheedling, A Little Self-degradation, A Little Careful Use Of Our Advantages, And Then Some Man Will Say .come, Be My Wife! With Good Looks And Youth Marriage Is Easy To Attain. There Are Men Enough; But A Woman Who Has Sold Herself, Even For A Ring And A New Name, Need Hold Her Skirt Aside For No Creature In The Street. They Both Earn Their Bread In One Way. Marriage For Love Is The Most Beautiful External Symbol Of The Union Of Souls; Marriage Without It Is The Least Clean Traffic That Defiles The World.

I Know There Will Be Spring, As Surely As The Birds Know It When They See Above The Snow Two Tiny, Quivering Green Leaves. Spring Cannot Fail Us.