They Will Both Be Happy, And I

All My Heart Is Yours, Sir: It Belongs To You; And With You It Would Remain, Were Fate To Exile The Rest Of Me From Your Presence Forever.

Feeling Without Judgement Is A Washy Draught Indeed; But Judgement Untempered By Feeling Is Too Bitter And Husky A Morsel For Human Deglutition.

No Reflection Was To Be Allowed Now, Not One Glance Was To Be Cast Back; Not Even One Forward. Not One Thought Was To Be Given Either To The Past Or The Future. The First Was A Page So Heavenly Sweet, So Deadly Sad, That To Read One Line Of It Would Dissolve My Courage And Break Down My Energy. The Last Was An Awful Blank, Something Like Then World When The Deluge Was Gone By.

I Am Not An Angel," I Asserted; "and I Will Not Be One Till I Die: I Will Be Myself.

I Care For Myself. The More Solitary, The More Friendless, The More Unsustained I Am, The More I Will Respect Myself.