I Only Ask To Be Free. The

A Day Wasted On Others Is Not Wasted On One's Self.

I Made A Compact With Myself That In My Person Literature Should Stand By Itself, Of Itself, And For Itself.

All Of Us Have Wonders Hidden In Our Breasts, Only Needing Circumstances To Evoke Them.

There Wasn't Room To Swing A Cat There.

It Was The Beginning Of A Day In June; The Deep Blue Sky Unsullied By A Cloud, And Teeming With Brilliant Light. The Streets Were, As Yet, Nearly Free From Passengers, The Houses And Shops Were Closed, And The Healthy Air Of Morning Fell Like Breath From Angels, On The Sleeping Town.