...our Impulses Are Too Strong For Our

I Am The Family Face; Flesh Perishes, I Live On, Projecting Trait And Trace Through Time To Times Anon, And Leaping From Place To Place Over Oblivion.

Happiness Is But A Mere Episode In The General Drama Of Pain.

What Is It, Angel?" She Said, Starting Up. "have They Come For Me?" "yes, Dearest," He Said. "they Have Come." "it Is As It Should Be," She Murmured. "angel, I Am Almost Glad—yes, Glad! This Happiness Could Not Have Lasted. It Was Too Much. I Have Had Enough; And Now I Shall Not Live For You To Despise Me!" She Stood Up, Shook Herself, And Went Forward, Neither Of The Men Having Moved. "i Am Ready," She Said Quietly.

I May Do Some Good Before I Am Dead--be A Sort Of Success As A Frightful Example Of What Not To Do; And So Illustrate A Moral Story.

Some Folk Want Their Luck Buttered.