Life In Itself / Is Nothing, /

Cut If You Will With Sleep's Dull Knife, The Years From Off Your Life, My Friend! The Years That Death Takes Off My Life, He'll Take From Off The Other End!

Life Is A Quest And Love A Quarrel

A Person Who Publishes A Book Appears Willfully In Public Eye With His Pants Down.

Here's A Song Was Never Sung: Growing Old Is Dying Young.

I, Being Born A Woman And Distressed By All The Needs And Notions Of My Kind, Am Urged By Your Propinquity To Find Your Person Fair, And Feel A Certain Zest To Bear Your Body's Weight Upon My Breast; So Subtly Is The Fume Of Life Designed, To Clarify The Pulse And Cloud The Mind, And Leave Me Once Again Undone, Possessed. Think Not For This, However, The Poor Treason Of My Stout Blood Against My Staggering Brain, I Shall Remember You With Love, Or Season My Scorn With Pity, - Let Me Make It Plain: I Find This Frenzy Insufficient Reason For Conversation When We Meet Again.