I have observed that you treat a man as an old garment to be taken apart and stitched again. Perhaps you could think of him as good cloth, rich fabric that wants only to be embroidered upon. And perhaps, if you will do that, you will see that you love Tailor yourself.
I have observed that you treat a man as an old garment to be taken apart and stitched again. Perhaps you could think of him as good cloth, rich fabri… - Martine Leavitt
I have observed that you treat a man as an old garment to be taken apart and stitched again. Perhaps you could think of him as good cloth, rich fabri…
- Martine Leavitt
If untimely death came only those who deserved that fate, Keturah, where would choice be? No one would do good for its own sake, but only to avoid an… - Martine Leavitt
If untimely death came only those who deserved that fate, Keturah, where would choice be? No one would do good for its own sake, but only to avoid an…
Demonstrate talent, said Grandmother often to me, and you will still be loved by a husband when beauty has faded. - Martine Leavitt
Demonstrate talent, said Grandmother often to me, and you will still be loved by a husband when beauty has faded.
It is life that hurts you not death. - Martine Leavitt
It is life that hurts you not death.
Papa loves you with a dying and infernal love," the youngest girl said. "Undying," the eldest girl corrected. "And eternal. - Martine Leavitt
Papa loves you with a dying and infernal love," the youngest girl said. "Undying," the eldest girl corrected. "And eternal.
You have no dower," he said. "Live, Keturah. Go home." "But I do have a dower," I said plainly. "This is my dower, Lord Death; the crown of flowers I… - Martine Leavitt
You have no dower," he said. "Live, Keturah. Go home." "But I do have a dower," I said plainly. "This is my dower, Lord Death; the crown of flowers I…
You, my lord, are the ending of all true stories. - Martine Leavitt
You, my lord, are the ending of all true stories.
When it is winter and we must walk in the blizzard snow do not our fingers and toes whisper death And when winter is at last over. . .can we not hea… - Martine Leavitt
When it is winter and we must walk in the blizzard snow do not our fingers and toes whisper death And when winter is at last over. . .can we not hea…
And so he did his endless work,' I continued quietly, 'without feeling, without pity, without rest, for to open his heart to these would be to open h… - Martine Leavitt
And so he did his endless work,' I continued quietly, 'without feeling, without pity, without rest, for to open his heart to these would be to open h…
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