Women hate a debt as men a gift.

One may do whatever one likes. In art, the only thing is, to make sure that one does like it.

What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?

Outside are the storms and strangers: we — Oh, close, safe, warm sleep I and she, — I and she!

Women hate a debt as men a gift.

Of power does Man possess no particle: Of knowledge-just so much as show that still It ends in ignorance on every side.

Might she have loved me? just as well She might have hated, who can tell!