At the age of eleven or thereabouts women acquire a poise and an ability to handle difficult situations which a man, if he is lucky, manages to achieve somewhere in the later seventies.
Appetite, with an opinion of attaining, is called hope; the same, without such opinion, despair.
When I was One, I had just begun. When I was Two, I was nearly new. When I was Three,…
Nothing is ever lost; things only become irretrievable. What is lost, then, is the method of their retrieval, and what…
Ha ha! That’s true!