A Court Has No Right To Strain

Forth From His Dark And Lonely Hiding-place, (portentous Sight!) The Owlet Atheism, Sailing On Obscene Wings Athwart The Noon, Drops His Blue-fringed Lids, And Holds Them Close, And Hooting At The Glorious Sun In Heaven, Cries Out, ''where Is It?''

Nothing Can Permanently Please, Which Doesn't Contain In Itself The Reason Why It Is So, And Not Otherwise.

A Woman In A Single State May Be Happy And May Be Miserable; But Most Happy, Most Miserable, These Are Epithets Belonging To A Wife.

Let Every Book-worm, When In Any Fragrant, Scarce Old Tome, He Discovers A Sentence, A Story, An Illustration, That Does His Heart Good, Hasten To Give It The Widest Circulation That Newspapers And Magazines, Penny And Halfpenny, Can Afford.

A Man's As Old As He's Feeling. A Woman As Old As She Looks.