We Ought To Have Lived In Mental

You Ride Well, But You Don't Kiss Nicely At All.

Do You Know That I Have Undergone Three Quarters Of This Labour Entirely For The Sake Of The Fourth Quarter?

In The Ill-judged Execution Of The Well-judged Plan Of Things The Call Seldom Produces The Comer, The Man To Love Rarely Coincides With The Hour For Loving

He Looked And Smelt Like Autumn's Very Brother, His Face Being Sunburnt To Wheat-colour, His Eyes Blue As Corn-flowers, His Sleeves And Leggings Dyed With Fruit-stains, His Hands Clammy With The Sweet Juice Of Apples, His Hat Sprinkled With Pips, And Everywhere About Him The Sweet Atmosphere Of Cider Which At Its First Return Each Season Has Such An Indescribable Fascination For Those Who Have Been Born And Bred Among The Orchards.

Backlock, A Poet Blind From His Birth, Could Describe Visual Objects With Accuracy; Professor Sanderson, Who Was Also Blind, Gave Excellent Lectures On Color, And Taught Others The Theory Of Ideas Which They Had And He Had Not. In The Social Sphere These Gifted Ones Are Mostly Women; They Can Watch A World Which They Never Saw, And Estimate Forces Of Which They Have Only Heard. We Call It Intuition.