When You See Fair Hair Be Pitiful.

Jealousy Is Never Satisfied With Anything Short Of An Omniscience That Would Detect The Subtlest Fold Of The Heart.

It Was Not That She Was Out Of Temper, But That The World Was Not Equal To The Demands Of Her Fine Organism.

Her Little Butterfly Soul Fluttered Incessantly Between Memory And Dubious Expectation.

A Perverted Moral Judgment Belongs To The Dogmatic System.

There Are Glances Of Hatred That Stab, And Raise No Cry Of Murder.