Always see a fellows weak point in his wife.
When one reads these strange pages of one long gone one feels that one is at one with one who once.
All Moanday, Tearday, Wailsday, Thumpsday, Frightday, Shatterday.
A wild angel had appeared to him, the angel of mortal youth and beauty, an envoy from the fair courts of life, to throw open before him in an instant of ecstasy the gates of all the ways of error and glory.
We are bound together by the sympathy of our antipathies.
Phall if you but will, rise you must: and none so soon either shall the pharce for the nunce come to a setdown secular phoenish.