My Imagination Persisted In Sticking Horrors Into

Daisy Began To Sing With The Music In A Husky, Rhythmic Whisper, Bringing Out A Meaning In Each Word That It Had Never Had Before And Would Never Have Again. When The Melody Rose, Her Voice Broke Up Sweetly, Following It, In A Way Contralto Voices Have, And Each Change Tipped Out A Little Of Her Warm Human Magic Upon The Air.

The Victor Belongs To The Spoils.

That However The Brains And Abilities Of Men May Differ, Their Stomachs Are Essentially The Same.

You Are Mine-you Know You're Mine!" He Cried Wildly...the Moonlight Twisted In Through The Vines And Listened...the Fireflies Hung Upon Their Whispers As If To Win His Glance From The Glory Of Their Eyes.

The Sign Of Intelligence Is The Ability To Carry Opposed Thoughts At The Same Time.