This Is A Long Goodbye, Yet Not

Why Should I Be Polished And Improved Like Goods For Sale? I Might Not Even Want To Marry! And Besides, I Have Many Skills. I Can Read And Write And Play The Flute And Harp. Why Should I Change To Please Some Man? If He Doesn’t Like Me The Way I Am, Then He Can Get Some Other Girl For His Wife.

You Know Not, Yet, The Sort Of Love That Strikes Like A Lightning Bolt; That Clutches Hold Of You By The Heart, As Irrevocably As Death; That Becomes The Lodestar By Which You Steer The Rest Of Your Life. I Would Not Wish Such A Love On Anyone, Man Or Woman, For It Can Make Your Life A Paradise, Or It Can Destroy You Utterly.

Every Man Or Woman Who Makes A Stand Helps Keep The Flame Of Freedom Burning.

My Feet Will Tread Soft As A Deer In The Forest. My Mind Will Be Clear As Water From The Sacred Well. My Heart Will Be Strong As A Great Oak. My Spirit Will Spread An Eagle's Wings, And Fly Forth.

This Had Been Real: Real In Its Flaws And Uncertainties, Real In Its Small Triumphs, Real In Its Compromises And Understanding.