Chess Is A Sad Waste Of Brains.

The Book Of Books Within This Ample Volume Lies The Mystery Of Mysteries. Happiest They Of Human Race To Whom Their God Has Given Grace To Read, To Fear, To Hope, To Pray, To Lift The Latch, To Force The Way; But Better Had They Ne'er Been Born That Read To Doubt Or Read To Scorn.

Mellow Nuts Have The Hardest Rind.

A Mother's Pride, A Father's Joy.

In Man's Most Dark Extremity Oft Succour Dawns From Heaven.

Time Rolls His Ceaseless Course.