Nobody Has Ever Measured, Not Even Poets,

Being In Love, She Concluded, Is Simply A Presentation Of Our Pasts To Another Individual, Mostly Packages So Unwieldy That We Can No Longer Manage The Loosened Strings Alone.

I Don't Want To Live. I Want To Love First, And Live Incidentally.

Women, Despite The Fact That Nine Out Of Ten Of Them Go Through Life With A Death-bed Air Either Of Snatching-the-last-moment Or With Martyr-resignation, Do Not Die Tomorrow--or The Next Day. They Have To Live On To Any One Of Many Bitter Ends.

Millie Beggs, By The Time She Was Forty-five, Had Become An Emotional Anarchist.

They Hadn't Much Faith In Travel, Nor A Great Belief In A Change Of Scene As A Panacea For Spiritual Ills; They Were Simply Glad To Be Going.