"I was taking something away from her, although she didn't know it. I was filching. Never mind that it was something she apparently didn't want or had no use for, had rejected even; still, it was hers, and if I took it away, this mysterious "it" I couldn't quite define."

Quit, quit, for shame, this will not move:
This cannot take her.
If of herself she cannot love,
Nothing can make her:
The devil take her!

Idleness, like kisses, to be sweet must be stolen.

Some undone widow sits upon mine arm, And takes away the use of it; and my sword, Glued to my scabbard with wronged orphans' tears, Will not be drawn.

She tried to cry out: 'Will you, cruel man,
leave me alone here?' Pain choked off her cry,
and in her heart the plaintive words began
to echo in a yet more bitter sigh.

deep blue. She was beautiful, not merely pretty, but there was in her eyes the haughty disdain of a queen reprimanding a clumsy subject.

But his sister, Artemis of the wild, the lady of wild beasts,
scolded him bitterly and spoke a word of revilement:
'You run from him, striker from afar...Fool, then why do you wear that bow, which is wind and nothing.

"Why did you kill Maurice Lennox?" she asked reproachfully.

And when once the young heart of a maiden is stolen,
The maiden herself will steal after it soon.

One evening I sat Beauty on my knees – And I found her bitter – And I reviled her.

Forbid her anything and it became her heart’s desire.

She was a spoiler, a needler, an underminer, a diminisher, simply by instinct.

She thought of a new way to kill my love for the beautiful Munchkin maiden, and made my axe slip again, so that it cut right through my body, splitting me into two halves.

"He should not be here, " said the fish in the pot. " he should not be here when your mother is not."