War Makes Rattling Good History.

We Ought To Have Lived In Mental Communion, And No More.

He Wished She Knew His Impressions; But He Would As Soon Have Thought Of Carrying An Odour In A Net As Of Attempting To Convey The Intangibilities Of His Feeling In The Coarse Meshes Of Language. So He Remained Silent.

The Smile On Your Mouth Was The Deadest Thing Alive Enough To Have Strength To Die. (from "neutral Tones")

The Social Mould Civilization Fits Us Into Have No More Relation To Our Actual Shapes Than The Conventional Shapes Of The Constellations Have To The Real Star-patterns. I Am Called Mrs. Richard Phillotson, Living A Calm Wedded Life With My Counterpart Of That Name. But I Am Not Really Mrs. Richard Phillotson, But A Woman Tossed About, All Alone, With Aberrant Passions, And Unaccountable Antipathies.

Dialect Words Are Those Terrible Marks Of The Beast To The Truly Genteel.