Big Thoughts, Human-sized Canvas
“…I want you to give me a deed of gift, or some legal paper.”
“Well, well,” said St. Clare, “I will;” and he sat down, and unfolded a newspaper to read.
“But I want it done now,” said Miss Ophelia.
“What’s your hurry?”
A little community of people, all of whom would be willing to die for each other, may not be able to live happily together; that is, they may have far less happiness than their circumstances, their fine and excellent traits, entitle…
“She never knew how I loved her.” “He never knew what he was to me.” “I always meant to make more of our friendship.” “I did not know what he was to me till he was gone.” Such words are the poisoned arrows which cruel Death shoots backward…
