All The Beautiful Sentiments In The World

Ez Fer War, I Call It Murder,- There You Hev It Plain An' Flat; I Don't Want To Go No Furder Than My Testyment Fer That. . . . . . An' You 've Gut To Git Up Airly Ef You Want To Take In God.

Did Man E'er Live Saw Priest Or Woman Yet Forgive?

O Visionary World, Condition Strange, Where Naught Abiding Is But Only Change.

Thank God Every Morning When You Get Up That You Have Something To Do That Day, Which Must Be Done, Whether You Like It Or Not.

Taste Is The Next Gift To Genius.