That It Would Always Be Summer And

She Was Not An Existence, An Experience, A Passion, A Structure Of Sensations, To Anybody But Herself. To All Humankind Besides Tess Was Only A Passing Thought. Even To Friends She Was No More Than A Frequently Passing Thought.

He Knelt And Bent Lower, Till Her Breath Warmed His Face, And In A Moment His Cheek Was In Contact With Hers. She Was Sleeping Soundly, And Upon Her Eyelashes There Lingered Tears.

You Concede Nothing To Me And I Have To Concede Everything To You.

If We Be Doomed To Marry, We Marry; If We Be Doomed To Remain Single We Do.

The Defective Can Be More Than The Entire.