If There Were No Girls Like Them

It Is Easy To Pity When Once One's Vanity Has Been Tickled.

I Suppose There Were Moonless Nights And Dark Ones With But A Silver Shaving And Pale Stars In The Sky, But I Remember Them All As Flooded With The Rich Indolence Of A Full Moon.

Even The Wicked Get Worse Than They Deserve.

The Dead Might As Well Try To Speak To The Living As The Old To The Young.

I Like Trees Because They Seem More Resigned To The Way They Have To Live Than Other Things Do.