Since this is a hard and sad truth for the telling; those whom nature has sacrificed to her ends--her mysterious ends that often lie hidden--are sometimes endowed with a vast will to loving, with an e...
Outrageous...that wilfully selfish tyranny of silence evolved by a crafty old ostrich of a world for its own well-being and comfort.
If our love is a sin, then heaven must be full of such tender and selfless sinning as ours.
For together with those who themselves being normal, had long put intellects above bodies, were writers, painters, musicians and scholars, men and women who, set apart from their birth, had determined...
For she thought that she glimpsed through the dust of the years, a faint flicker of the girl who had lingered in the lanes when the young man Williams and she had been courting. And looking at William...
Reuben grinned and chewed more vigorously than ever; he had the measure of his master’s foot to a nicety. The sun felt actually hot, and Hilary, in his heavy tweeds, began to be less inclined for the...
Memory, the old room was haunted by it — a man dying with love in his eyes that was deathless — a woman holding him in her arms, speaking words such as lovers will speak to each other. Memory — they'r...
But even as she struck the bonds seemed to tighten, with each fresh blow to bind more securely. Mary now clung with every fibre of her sorely distressed and outraged being; with every memory that Step...
After she had gone he sat on alone, and the lie was still bitter to his spirit as he sat there, and he covered his face for the shame that was in him - but because of the love that was in him he wept.
The eyes of the young are drawn to the stars, and the spirit of youth is seldom earth-bound.
Oh, yes -- very easy to talk about death, but not so easy to manage the dying.
Oh, Stephen, Stephen, get used to the world -- it's a horrible place full of horrible people, but it's all there is, and we live in it, don't we? So we've just got to do as the world does, my Stephen.
Man could not live by darkness alone, one point of light he must have for salvation – one point of light. The most perfect Being of all had cried for light in His darkness – even He, the most perfect...
For the Celtic soul is the stronghold of dreams, of longings come down the dim paths of the ages; and within it there dwells a vague discontent, so that it must for ever go questing. And
To keep life in his desolate, long-suffering soul, he had stored his mind with much profound learning. So now many poor devils went to him for advice, which he never refused though he gave it sadly. I...
But now, here she was, very wishful to pray, while not knowing how to explain her dilemma: ‘I’m terribly unhappy, dear, unprobable God—’ would not be a very propitious beginning.
And so blinded was she by those gleams of glory which the stars fling into the eyes of young lovers, that she saw perfection where none existed; saw a patient endurance that was purely fictitious, and...
Yes, it was trying to get her under, this world with its mightyself-satisfaction, with its smug rules of conduct, all made to be brokenby those who strutted and preened themselves on being what theyco...
Strange it is, but unforgettable moments are often connected with very small happenings, happenings that assume fictitious proportions, especially when we are children.
There seldom seemed to be a house left with a roof, or with anything much beyond its four walls, and quite often they must lie staring up at the stars, which would stare back again, aloof and untroubl...