He Was Figuratively Following Along Beside Her

Beauty Means The Scent Of Roses And Then The Death Of Roses

There Is A Moment—oh, Just Before The First Kiss, A Whispered Word—something That Makes It Worth While.

You Don’t Know What A Trial It Is To Be —like Me. I've Got To Keep My Face Like Steel In The Street To Keep Men From Winking At Me.

He Had Possessed The Arrogance Of A Tall Member Of A Short Race, With No Obligation Save To Be Tall.

She Wouldn't Let Go Of The Letter. She Took It Into The Tub With Her And Squeezed It Up In A Wet Ball, And Only Let Me Leave It In The Soap Dish When She Saw That It Was Coming To Pieces Like Snow.