We Only Do Well The

Researchers, With Science As Their Authority, Will Be Able To Cut Animals Up, Alive, Into Small Pieces, Drop Them From A Great Height To See If They Are Shattered By The Fall, Or Deprive Them Of Sleep For Sixteen Days And Nights Continuously For The Purposes Of An Iniquitous Monograph. . . . Animal Trust, Undeserved Faith, When At Last Will You Turn Away From Us? Shall We Never Tire Of Deceiving, Betraying, Tormenting Animals Before They Cease To Trust Us?

Don't Cudgel Your Brains Over My Little Problems.

Beautiful December Grapes, Blue As Plums, Every Grape A Little Skinful Of Sweet, Tasteless Water

There Are No Ordinary Cats.

I Did Not Look For Her, Because I Was Afraid Of Dispelling The Mystery We Attach To People Whom We Know Only Casually.