War Makes Good History But Peace Is

Where We Are Would Be Paradise To Me, If You Would Only Make It So.

A Strong Woman Who Recklessly Throws Away Her Strength, She Is Worse Than A Weak Woman Who Has Never Had Any Strength To Throw Away.

Clare Had Studied The Curves Of Those Lips So Many Times That He Could Reproduce Them Mentally With Ease: And Now, As They Again Confronted Him, Clothed With Colour And Life, They Sent An Aura Over His Flesh, A Breeze Through His Nerves, Which Wellnigh Produced A Qualm; And Actually Produced, By Some Mysterious Physiological Process, A Prosaic Sneeze.

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.

The Smile On Your Mouth Was The Deadest Thing Alive Enough To Have Strength To Die. (from "neutral Tones")