Marriage, like money, is still with us; and, like money, progressively devalued.
What we now call "finance" is, I hold, an intellectual perversion of what began as warm human love.
Myths are seldom simple, and never irresponsible.
I made no more protests. What was the use of struggling against fate
She tells her love while half asleep, In the dark hours, With half-words whispered low: As Earth stirs in her winter sleep And puts out grass and flowers Despite the snow, Despite the falling snow.
The gift of independence once granted cannot be lightly taken away again.