So Do Flux And Reflux--the

There Are Disappointments Which Wring Us, And There Are Those Which Inflict A Wound Whose Mark We Bear To Our Graves. Such Are So Keen That No Future Gratification Of The Same Desire Can Ever Obliterate Them: They Become Registered As A Permanent Loss Of Happiness.

And Yet To Every Bad There Is A Worse.

That It Would Always Be Summer And Autumn, And You Always Courting Me, And Always Thinking As Much Of Me As You Have Done Through The Past Summertime!

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.

But No One Came. Because No One Ever Does.