All Men, Even The Most Surly Are

There Are Three Classes Into Which All The Women Past Seventy That Ever I Knew Were To Be Divided: 1. That Dear Old Soul; 2. That Old Woman; 3. That Old Witch.

The Intelligible Forms Of Ancient Poets, The Fair Humanities Of Old Religion, The Power, The Beauty, And The Majesty That Had Their Haunts In Dale Or Piny Mountain, Or Forest By Slow Stream, Or Pebbly Spring, Or Chasms And Watery Depths, All These Have Vanished; They Live No Longer In The Faith Of Reason.

Death Came With Friendly Care; The Opening Bud To Heaven Conveyed, And Bade It Blossom There.

We Should Manage Our Thoughts As Shepherds Do Their Flowers In Making A Garland: First, Select The Choicest, And Then Dispose Them In The Most Proper Places, That Every One May Reflect A Part Of Its Color And Brightness On The Next.

He Saw A Lawyer Killing A Viper On A Dunghill Hard By His Own Stable; And The Devil Smiled, For It Put Him In Mind Of Cain And His Brother Abel.