Conscience, Like A Child, Is Soon Lulled

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.

There Is No Denying That There Are 'royal Roads' Through Existence For The Upper Classes; For Them, At Least, The Highways Are Macadamized, Swept, And Watered.

Shopping, True Feminine Felicity!

Anticipation Is A Bad Sleeping Draught.

Thou Know'st How Fearless Is My Trust In Thee.