A mother takes twenty years to make a man of her boy, and another woman makes a fool of him in twenty minutes. - Robert Frost

But yield who will their separation,
My object in living is to unite
My avocation and my vocation
As my two eyes make one in sight.
Only where love and need are one,
And the work is play for mortal stakes,
Is the deed ever really done
For Heaven and the future's sakes.

"Don't let him cut my hand off— The doctor, when he comes. Don't let him, sister!" So. But the hand was gone already.

A breeze discovered my open book And began to flutter the leaves to look