ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS:
Ah, let it be soon! Ah, let him die soon!
All are hurt some time
But a wounded spirit who can bear
Did not let him think that she was giving up anything for him
Duplicity, for which she might never have to ask forgiveness
Frenchman, slave of ideas, the victim of sentiment
Frenchman, volatile, moody, chivalrous, unreasonable
Her stronger soul ruled him without his knowledge
I love that love in which I married him
Let others ride to glory, I’ll shoe their horses for the gallop
Lighted candles in hollowed pumpkins
Love has nothing to do with ugliness or beauty, or fortune
Man grows old only by what he suffers, and what he forgives
Nature twists in back, or anywhere, gets a twist in’s brain too
Rewarded for its mistakes
Some are hurt in one way and some in another
Struggle of conscience and expediency
The furious music of death and war was over
We’ll lave the past behind us
You—you all were so ready to suspect