What is love at first sight but a proof of the powerful but silent language of physiognomy?
To serve thy generation, this thy fate: "Written in water," swiftly fades thy name; But he who loves his kind does, first and late, A work too late f… - Mary C. Ames
To serve thy generation, this thy fate: "Written in water," swiftly fades thy name; But he who loves his kind does, first and late, A work too late f…
- Mary C. Ames
What is love at first sight but a proof of the powerful but silent language of physiognomy? - Mary C. Ames
Always man needs woman for his friend. He needs her clearer vision, her subtler insight, her softer thought, her winged soul, her pure and tender hea… - Mary C. Ames
Always man needs woman for his friend. He needs her clearer vision, her subtler insight, her softer thought, her winged soul, her pure and tender hea…
The deepest insult which can be shown to a human being is to associate it solely with material functions, with no cognizance and no consideration of … - Mary C. Ames
The deepest insult which can be shown to a human being is to associate it solely with material functions, with no cognizance and no consideration of …
What more degrades woman today than that she so often seeks marriage as a support? Why is the holy sacrament of love, the sanctity of the family stat… - Mary C. Ames
What more degrades woman today than that she so often seeks marriage as a support? Why is the holy sacrament of love, the sanctity of the family stat…
The woman born to physical subjection and degradation can never seek or use knowledge as her birthright. Never till she holds her sex in honor, as ma… - Mary C. Ames
The woman born to physical subjection and degradation can never seek or use knowledge as her birthright. Never till she holds her sex in honor, as ma…
Only a newspaper! Quick read, quick lost, Who sums the treasure that it carries hence? Torn, trampled under feet, who counts thy cost, Star-eyed inte… - Mary C. Ames
Only a newspaper! Quick read, quick lost, Who sums the treasure that it carries hence? Torn, trampled under feet, who counts thy cost, Star-eyed inte…
The Indian Summer, the dead Summer's soul. - Mary C. Ames
The Indian Summer, the dead Summer's soul.
A shining isle in a stormy sea, We seek it ever with smiles and sighs; To-day is sad. In the bland To-be, Serene and lovely To-morrow lies. - Mary C. Ames
A shining isle in a stormy sea, We seek it ever with smiles and sighs; To-day is sad. In the bland To-be, Serene and lovely To-morrow lies.
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