the topmost line, divided, shows it subject with extraordinary boldness wading through a stream, till the water hides the crown of his head.
in your public life...
words that embody your presence are "submission."
words that embody the people or things that you interact with are "affair, alien, camera, coin, demand, dream, duke, globe, home, joke, key, king, lock."
words that embody things that may be a part of you are "ancestor, blue, cabal, cup, film, food, gamble, grotto, halloween, line, martyr, mind, mustang, neptune, pact, pain, toe, unholy, virtue."
words that embody people or things in your periphery are "allure, atlantis, constellation, freemason, ghost, heroin, husband, jungle, knight, knowledge, leather, playboy, romance, rough, society, spite, wealth, whore, worm."
in your private life...
words that embody your presence are "amulet, bullet, cacophony, cathedral, companion, culture, despair, failure, fashion, intellect, lightning, lover, lust, masochism, money, pilot, reason, river, rocket, school, slut, sweet, telephone, world."
words that embody the people or things that you interact with are "dance, hand, job, red."
words that embody people or things in your periphery are "obsession, porcupine, spotlight, stability, torture, university."
in your spiritual life...
words that embody things that may be a part of you are "cabal, fortune, jupiter, outcast, pastry, physics, rapture, vigilante."
i attended mrs. smith, the tenant's wife, and saw that girl there for the first time. mrs. smith, a genteel person with a sharp nose, made her put on a black dress every afternoon. i don't know what induced me to notice her at all. there are faces that call your attention by a curious want of definiteness in their whole aspect, as, walking in a mist, you peer attentively at a vague shape which, after all, may be nothing more curious or strange than a signpost. the only peculiarity i perceived in her was a slight hesitation in her utterance, a sort of preliminary stammer which passes away with the first word. when sharply spoken
to, she was apt to lose her head at once; but her heart was of the kindest. if it’s true, as some german fellow has said, that without phosphorus there is no thought, it is still more true that there is no kindness of heart without a certain amount of imagination. she had some. she had even more than is necessary to understand suffering and to be moved by pity. she fell in love under circumstances that leave no room for doubt in the matter; for you need imagination to form a notion of beauty at all, and still more to discover your ideal in an unfamiliar shape.