To Love All Ages Yield Surrender; But

I Have Outlasted All Desire, My Dreams And I Have Grown Apart; My Grief Alone Is Left Entire, The Gleamings Of An Empty Heart. The Storms Of Ruthless Dispensation Have Struck My Flowery Garland Numb, I Live In Lonely Desolation And Wonder When My End Will Come. Thus On A Naked Tree-limb, Blasted By Tardy Winter's Whistling Chill, A Single Leaf Which Has Outlasted Its Season Will Be Trembling Still.

A Man Who's Active And Incisive Can Yet Keep Nail-care Much In Mind: Why Fight What's Known To Be Decisive? Custom Is Despot Of Mankind.

Habit Is Heaven's Own Redress: It Takes The Place Of Happiness.

Write For Pleasure And Publish For Money.

Moscow... How Many Strains Are Fusing In That One Sound, For Russian Hearts! What Store Of Riches It Imparts!