But Search The Land Of Living Men,

There Are Those To Whom A Sense Of Religion Has Come In Storm And Tempest; There Are Those Whom It Has Summoned Amid Scenes Of Revelry And Idle Vanity; There Are Those, Too, Who Have Heard Its "still Small Voice" Amid Rural Leisure And Placid Retirement. But Perhaps The Knowledge Which Causeth Not To Err Is Most Frequently Impressed Upon The Mind During The Season Of Affliction.

What I Have To Say Is Far More Important Than How Long My Eyelashes Are.

Thou And I Are But The Blind Instruments Of Some Irresistible Fatality, That Hurries Us Along, Like Goodly Vessels Driving Before The Storm, Which Are Dashed Against Each Other, And So Perish.

If A Farmer Fills His Barn With Grain, He Gets Mice. If He Leaves It Empty, He Gets Actors.

Many Miles Away There's A Shadow On The Door Of A Cottage On The Shore Of A Dark Scottish Lake.