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But in spite of their unsweetness, they are among the pretty things of the woods; their forms are delicate and graceful; their eyes are like jewels, and when the night comes down, they bow their heads, gracefully fold their hands, and sleep like a lot of tired children. Self-heal or Blue-curls in the Grass
He loved her dearly, for all her sadness and unsweetness. "Poor Nancy," he said, "I am a brute. Forgive me." "I do forgive you." The words seemed the refrain of her life's sad song. And as he kissed her he said to himself, "That's all very well; but if I only knew what I'm supposed to have done to her! Her friends must think me a perfect monster."
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