Where We Are Would Be

Done Because We Are Too Many.

...nameless, Unknown To Me As You Were, I Couldn't Forget Your Voice!' 'for How Long?' 'o - Ever So Long. Days And Days.' 'days And Days! Only Days And Days? O, The Heart Of A Man! Days And Days!' 'but, My Dear Madam, I Had Not Known You More Than A Day Or Two. It Was Not A Full-blown Love - It Was The Merest Bud - Red, Fresh, Vivid, But Small. It Was A Colossal Passion In Embryo. It Never Returned.

It Was Still Early, And The Sun's Lower Limb Was Just Free Of The Hill, His Rays, Ungenial And Peering, Addressed The Eye Rather Than The Touch As Yet.

She Was Not An Existence, An Experience, A Passion, A Structure Of Sensations, To Anybody But Herself. To All Humankind Besides Tess Was Only A Passing Thought. Even To Friends She Was No More Than A Frequently Passing Thought.

Everybody Must Be Managed. Queens Must Be Managed. Kings Must Be Managed, For Men Want Managing Almost As Much As Women, And That's Saying A Good Deal.