Some Stories Are So Familiar

Every Few Weeks She Would Shut Herself Up In Her Room, Put On Her Scribbling Suit, And Fall Into A Vortex, As She Expressed It, Writing Away At Her Novel With All Her Heart And Soul, For Till That Was Finished She Could Find No Peace.

To Most The End Comes As Naturally And Simply As Sleep.

... For It Is The Small Temptations Which Undermine Integrity Unless We Watch And Pray And Never Think Them Too Trivial To Be Resisted.

Head, You May Think; Heart, You May Feel; But Hand, You Shall Work Alway!

Let Us Be Elegant Or Die! --amy