Write What You Like; There Is No

The True Adventurer Goes Forth Aimless And Uncalculating To Meet And Greet Unknown Fate.

She Plucked From My Lapel The Invisible Strand Of Lint (the Universal Act Of Woman To Proclaim Ownership).

Women's Weapon, Water-drops.

She Had Become So Thoroughly Annealed Into His Life That She Was Like The Air He Breathed--necessary But Scarcely Noticed.

This Fair But Pitiless City Of Manhattan Was Without A Soul ... Its Inhabitants Were Manikins Moved By Wires And Springs.