There Are Some People Who

The Past Was Nothing To Her; Offered No Lesson Which She Was Willing To Heed. The Future Was A Mystery Which She Never Attempted To Penetrate. The Present Alone Was Significant.

I Don't Mind Walking. I Always Feel So Sorry For Women Who Don't Like To Walk; They Miss So Much--so Many Rare Little Glimpses Of Life; And We Women Learn So Little Of Life On The Whole.

There Was A Dull Pang Of Regret Because It Was Not The Kiss Of Love Which Had Inflamed Her, Because It Was Not Love Which Had Held This Cup Of Life To Her Lips.

A Bird With A Broken Wing Was Beating The Air Above, Reeling, Fluttering, Circling Disabled, Down, Down To The Water

It Was Not Despair, But It Seemed To Her As If Life Were Passing By, Leaving Its Promises Broken And Unfulfilled. Yet There Were Other Days When She Listened, Was Led On And Deceived By Fresh Promises Which Her Youth Had Held Out To Her.