My Religion Of Life Is Always To

Lowly, With A Broken Neck, The Crocus Lays Her Cheek To Mire.

Among The Diaries Beginning With The Second Quarter Of Our Century, There Is Frequent Mention Of A Lady Then Becoming Famous For Her Beauty And Her Wit: "an Unusual Combination," In The Deliberate Syllables Of One Of The Writers, Who Is, However, Not Disposed To Personal Irony When Speaking Of Her.

She Whom I Love Is Hard To Catch And Conquer, Hard, But O The Glory Of The Winning Were She Won!

Observation Is The Most Enduring Of The Pleasures Of Life.

We Are Betrayed By What Is False Within