The Sudden Disappointment Of A Hope Leaves

We Colour And Mould According To The Wants Within Us Whatever Our Eyes Bring In.

Why It Was That Upon This Beautiful Feminine Tissue, Sensitive As Gossamer, And Practically Blank As Snow As Yet, There Should Have Been Traced Such A Coarse Pattern As It Was Doomed To Receive; Why So Often The Coarse Appropriates The Finer Thus, The Wrong Man The Woman, The Wrong Women The Man, Many Years Of Analytical Philosophy Have Failed To Explain To Our Sense Of Order

The Sky Was Clear - Remarkably Clear - And The Twinkling Of All The Stars Seemed To Be But Throbs Of One Body, Timed By A Common Pulse.

They Spoke Very Little Of Their Mutual Feeling; Pretty Phrases And Warm Expressions Being Probably Unnecessary Between Such Tried Friends.

I Want To Question My Belief, So That What Is Left After I Have Questioned It, Will Be Even Stronger.