When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.
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The secret belongs only to the Maker of good and faithful dogs.
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What happened when we died? How were we to know that death wasn't as profound an adventure as life was?
- __ow about flipping a coin;_ she made a pretty remark and the two women turned around andlooked at her irritated.- __hat's right, go ahead, jock about it. You are not the one trying to change her heart, I am, and youknow damn well how painful that can be!__and of Passion
I am as devoted to adventure now as then, and that__ never going to stop.
For my part, if a man must needs be a knave I would have him a debonair knave... It makes your sin no worse as I conceive, to do it _ la mode and stylishly.
Our great adventure ran out of petrol and stopped on this farm.