I Was Not Sure I

The Women We Really Love Are The Women Who Complete Us, Who Have The Qualities We Can Borrow And So Become Something Nearer To Whole Men. Just As We Complete Them, Of Course; It’s Not A One-way Thing. Leola And I, When Romance Was Stripped Away, Were Too Much Alike; Our Strengths And Weaknesses Were Too Nearly The Same. Together We Would Have Doubled Our Gains And Our Losses, But That Isn’t What Love Is.

A Boy Is A Man In Miniature, And Though He May Sometimes Exhibit Notable Virtue, As Well As Characteristics That Seem To Be Charming Because They Are Childlike, He Is Also A Schemer, Self-seeker, Traitor, Judas, Crook, And Villain - In Short, A Man.

The Young Are Often Accused Of Exaggerating Their Troubles; They Do So, Very Often, In The Hope Of Making Some Impression Upon The Inertia And The Immovability Of The Selfish Old.

The Little Boy Nodded At The Peony And The Peony Seemed To Nod Back. The Little Boy Was Neat, Clean And Pretty. The Peony Was Unchaste, Dishevelled As Peonies Must Be, And At The Height Of Its Beauty.(...) Every Hour Is Filled With Such Moments, Big With Significance For Someone.

Women Always Think That If They Tell A Man Not To Be Pompous That Will Shut Him Up, But I Am An Old Hand At That Game. I Know That If A Man Bides His Time His Moment Will Come.