Sleep Demands Of Us A Guilty Immunity.

The Unendurable Is The Beginning Of The Curve Of Joy.

Destiny And History Are Untidy.

The Very Condition Of Woman Is So Subject To Hazard, So Complex, And So Grievous, That To Place Her At One Moment Is But To Displace Her At The Next.

What Is A Ruin But Time Easing Itself Of Endurance?

Our Bones Ache Only While The Flesh Is On Them.