The man, most man, works best for men: and, if most man indeed, he gets his manhood plainest from his soul.

And each man stands with his face in the light. Of his own drawn sword, ready to do what a hero can.

And wilt thou have me fashion into speech The love I bear thee, finding words enough, And hold the torch out, while the winds are rough, Between our faces, to cast light on each? - I dropt it at thy feet. I cannot teach My hand to hold my spirits so far off From myself--me--that I should bring thee proof In words, of love hid in me out of reach. Nay, let the silence of my womanhood Commend my woman-love to thy belief, - Seeing that I stand unwon, however wooed, And rend the garment of my life, in brief, By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude, Lest one touch of this heart convey its grief.

The devil's most devilish when respectable.

Or from Browning some "Pomegranate," which if cut deep down the middle Shows a heart within blood-tinctured, of a veined humanity.

Light tomorrow with today!

The charm, one might say the genius, of memory is that it is choosy, chancy and temperamental.