An abiding rapture would make itself a sorrow out of our very weakness to bear it.

We should become exhausted and exacting, and be irritated by the limitations of our nature, and our inability to create and to endure an increasing rapture.
It is because joy is fugitive that it leaves us a delightsome memory.
It is far better, then, not to hold the rose until it withers in our fevered hand.
The three women watched their heroes go back to the city.

The doctor looked very little older than his companions.

He sat his horse superbly, and he lifted his hat to the proud Senora with a loving grace which neither of the young men could excel.

In that far back year, when he had wooed her with the sweet words she taught him, he had not looked more manly and attractive.