Love Isn't Blind; It's Only

It Is Not Often Given In A Noisy World To Come To The Places Of Great Grief And Silence.

When She Walked...she Stretched Out Long And Thin Like A Little Tiger, And Held Her Head High To Look Over The Grass As If She Were Treading The Jungle.

Don't Scatter Your Fire! You Are A Prose Writer: Stick To Your Own Tool!

Tact Is After All A Kind Of Mind Reading.

Yes'm, Old Friends Is Always Best, 'less You Can Catch A New One That's Fit To Make An Old One Out Of.