Words, Like Acts, Become Stale When They

After A Day Of Rain The Sun Came Out Suddenly At Five O'clock And Threw A Golden Bar Into The Deep Victorian Gloom Of The Front Parlour

The Nearer She Came To Death, The More, By Some Perversity Of Nature, Did She Enjoy Living.

I Have Little Faith In The Theory That Organized Killing Is The Best Prelude To Peace.

Evidently, Whatever Else Marriage Might Prevent, It Was Not A Remedy For Isolation Of Spirit.

I Waited And Worked, And Watched The Inferior Exalted For Nearly Thirty Years; And When Recognition Came At Last, It Was Too Late To Alter Events, Or To Make A Difference In Living.