Nay, you'll be ashamed of me everyday of your life," he answered; "and the more ashamed, the more you know me; and I cannot bide it.

No coward soul is mine.

I wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free.

how cruel, your veins are full of ice-water and mine are boiling

I never told my love vocally still.

I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me.

I have no pity! I have no pity! The more worms writhe, the more I yearn to crush out their entrails! It is a moral teething, and I grind with greater energy, in proportion to the increase of pain.