More Belongs To Marriage Than Four Legs

There May Be Good, But There Are No Pleasant Marriages.

Rose, Oh Pure Contradiction, Joy Of Being No-one's Sleep Under So Many Lids.

Love Consists Of This: Two Solitudes That Meet, Protect And Great Each Other.

But Suppose The Endlessly Dead Were To Wake In Us Some Emblem: They Might Point To The Catkins Hanging From The Empty Hazel Trees, Or Direct Us To The Rain Descending On Black Earth In Early Spring. --- And We, Who Always Think Of Happiness Rising, Would Feel The Emotion That Almost Baffles Us When A Happy Thing Falls.

Someday There Will Be Girls And Women Whose Name Will No Longer Mean The Mere Opposite Of The Male, But Something In Itself, Something That Makes One Think Not Of Any Complement And Limit, But Only Life And Reality: The Female Human Being.