A Bird With A Broken Wing Was

She Felt Like A Chess Player Who, By The Clever Handling Of His Pieces, Sees The Game Taking The Course Intended. Her Eyes Were Bright And Tender With A Smile As They Glanced Up Into His; And Her Lips Looked Hungry For The Kiss Which They Invited.

…there Would Be No Powerful Will Binding Hers In That Blind Persistence With Which Men And Women Believe They Have A Right To Impose A Private Will Upon A Fellow Creature…and Yet She Had Loved Him- Sometimes. Often She Had Not. What Did It Matter! What Could Love, The Unsolved Mystery, Count For In The Face Of This Possession Of Self-assertion Which She Suddenly Recognized As The Strongest Impulse Of Her Being.

The Way To Become Rich Is To Make Money, Not To Save It.

Even As A Child She Had Lived Her Own Small Life Within Herself. At A Very Early Period She Had Apprehended Instinctively The Dual Life - That Outward Existence Which Conforms, The Inward Life Which Questions.

In Short, Mrs. Pontellier Was Beginning To Realize Her Position In The Universe As A Human Being, And To Recongize Her Relations As An Individual To The World Within And About Her. This May Seem Like A Ponderous Weight Of Wisdom To Descend Upon The Soul Of A Young Woman Of Twenty-eight - Perhaps More Wisdom Than The Holy Ghost Is Usually Pleased To Vouchsafe To Any Woman.