It is difficult for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.

In the ill-judged execution of the well-judged plan of things the call seldom produces the comer, the man to love rarely coincides with the hour for loving

That one true heart was left behind! What feeling do we ever find, to equal among human kind , a dog's fidelity!

you are absolutely the most ethereal, least sensual woman I ever knew to exist without inhuman sexlessness.

What is it, Angel?" she said, starting up. "Have they come for me?" "Yes, dearest," he said. "They have come." "It is as it should be," she murmured. "Angel, I am almost glad—yes, glad! This happiness could not have lasted. It was too much. I have had enough; and now I shall not live for you to despise me!" She stood up, shook herself, and went forward, neither of the men having moved. "I am ready," she said quietly.

We colour and mould according to the wants within us whatever our eyes bring in.

He knelt and bent lower, till her breath warmed his face, and in a moment his cheek was in contact with hers. She was sleeping soundly, and upon her eyelashes there lingered tears.