You Don't Talk Quite Like A Girl

My Wicked Heart Will Ramble On In Spite Of Myself. (arabella)

What Is It, Angel?" She Said, Starting Up. "have They Come For Me?" "yes, Dearest," He Said. "they Have Come." "it Is As It Should Be," She Murmured. "angel, I Am Almost Glad—yes, Glad! This Happiness Could Not Have Lasted. It Was Too Much. I Have Had Enough; And Now I Shall Not Live For You To Despise Me!" She Stood Up, Shook Herself, And Went Forward, Neither Of The Men Having Moved. "i Am Ready," She Said Quietly.

Sometimes A Woman's Love Of Being Loved Gets The Better Of Her Conscience, And Though She Is Agonized At The Thought Of Treating A Man Cruelly, She Encourages Him To Love Her While She Doesn't Love Him At All. Then, When She Sees Him Suffering, Her Remorse Sets In, And She Does What She Can To Repair The Wrong.

A Strong Woman Who Recklessly Throws Away Her Strength, She Is Worse Than A Weak Woman Who Has Never Had Any Strength To Throw Away.

...she Moved About In A Mental Cloud Of Many-coloured Idealities, Which Eclipsed All Sinister Contingencies By Its Brightness.