Of All Faults The One She Most

He Is My First Olive: Let Me Make A Face While I Swallow It.

He Shook Hands With Margaret. He Knew It Was The First Time Their Hands Had Met, Though She Was Perfectly Unconscious Of The Fact.

There Was A Filmy Veil Of Soft Dull Mist Obscuring, But Not Hiding, All Objects, Giving Them A Lilac Hue, For The Sun Had Not Yet Fully Set; A Robin Was Singing ... The Leaves Were More Gorgeous Than Ever; The First Touch Of Frost Would Lay Them All Low To The Ground. Already One Or Two Kept Constantly Floating Down, Amber And Golden In The Low Slanting Sun-rays.

I Take It That 'gentleman' Is A Term That Only Describes A Person In His Relation To Others; But When We Speak Of Him As 'a Man,' We Consider Him Not Merely With Regard To His Fellow-men, But In Relation To Himself,--to Life--to Time--to Eternity.

What Other People May Think Of The Rightness Or Wrongness Is Nothing In Comparison To My Own Deep Knowledge, My Innate Conviction That It Was Wrong.