Youth Is A Season That Has No

Doubts, Like Facts, Are Stubborn Things.

What Is Life? A Gulf Of Troubled Waters, Where The Soul, Like A Vexed Bark, Is Tossed Upon The Waves Of Pain And Pleasure By The Wavering Breath Of Passions.

Do Anything But Love; Or If Thou Lovest And Art A Woman, Hide Thy Love From Him Whom Thou Dost Worship; Never Let Him Know How Dear He Is; Flit Like A Bird Before Him; Lead Him From Tree To Tree, From Flower To Flower; But Be Not Won, Or Thou Wilt, Like That Bird, When Caught And Caged, Be Left To Pine Neglected And Perish In Forgetfulness.

Are We Not Like The Actor Of Old Times, Who Wore His Mask So Long His Face Took Its Likeness?

Alas! We Give Our Own Coloring To The Actions Of Others.