The Will To Do, The Soul To

It Was Woman That Taught Me Cruelty, And On Woman Therefore I Have Exercised It.

But Woe Awaits A Country When She Sees The Tears Of Bearded Men.

Woman's Faith And Woman's Trust, Write The Characters In Dust.

The Willow Which Bends To The Tempest Often Escapes Better Than The Oak Which Resists It.

The Tear, Down Childhood's Cheek That Flows, Is Like The Dewdrop On The Rose; When Next The Summer Breeze Comes By And Waves The Bush, The Flower Is Dry.