A Day Wasted On Others Is Not

Notwithstanding His Very Liberal Laudation Of Himself, However, The Major Was Selfish. It May Be Doubted Whether There Ever Was A More Entirely Selfish Person At Heart; Or At Stomach Is Perhaps A Better Expression, Seeing That He Was More Decidedly Endowed With That Latter Organ Than With The Former.

There Was Not One Straight Floor From The Foundation To The Roof; The Ceilings Were So Fantastically Clouded By Smoke And Dust, That Old Women Might Have Told Fortunes In Them Better Than In Grouts Of Tea.

Heaven Suits The Back To The Burden.

And, Unlike The Celebrated Herd In The Poem, They Were Not Forty Children Conducting Themselves As One, But Every Child Was Conducting Itself Like Forty.

I Only Ask To Be Free. The Butterflies Are Free. Mankind Will Surely Not Deny To Harold Skimpole What It Concedes To The Butterflies.