Why Is It That A Woman Can

Why It Was That Upon This Beautiful Feminine Tissue, Sensitive As Gossamer, And Practically Blank As Snow As Yet, There Should Have Been Traced Such A Coarse Pattern As It Was Doomed To Receive; Why So Often The Coarse Appropriates The Finer Thus, The Wrong Man The Woman, The Wrong Women The Man, Many Years Of Analytical Philosophy Have Failed To Explain To Our Sense Of Order

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

You Have Never Loved Me As I Love You--never--never! Yours Is Not A Passionate Heart--your Heart Does Not Burn In A Flame! You Are, Upon The Whole, A Sort Of Fay, Or Sprite-- Not A Woman!

War Makes Good History But Peace Is Poor Reading.

You Are Absolutely The Most Ethereal, Least Sensual Woman I Ever Knew To Exist Without Inhuman Sexlessness.