Like glimpses of forgotten dreams.

The woman's cause is man's: they rise or sink Together.

Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control; these three alone lead one to sovereign power.

If Nature put not forth her power About the opening of the flower, Who is it that could live an hour?

I will take some savage woman, she shall rear my dusky race.

We cannot be kind to each other here for even an hour. We whisper, and hint, and chuckle and grin at our brother's shame; however you take it we men are a little breed.

Willows whiten, aspens quiver, little breezes dusk and shiver, thro' the wave that runs forever by the island in the river, flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls and four gray towers, overlook a space of flowers, and the silent isle imbowers, the Lady of Shalott.