Credit Is A System Whereby A Person

Happiness Is A Gift And The Trick Is Not To Expect It, But To Delight In It When It Comes.

The Meagre Lighthouse All In White, Haunting The Seaboard, As If It Were The Ghost Of An Edifice That Had Once Had Colour And Rotundity, Dripped Melancholy Tears After Its Late Buffeting By The Waves.

At Last, However, He Began To Think -- As You Or I Would Have Thought At First; For It Is Always The Person Not In The Predicament Who Knows What Ought To Have Been Done In It, And Would Unquestionably Have Done It Too . . .

We Must Scrunch Or Be Scrunched.

We Know, Mr. Weller - We, Who Are Men Of The World - That A Good Uniform Must Work Its Way With The Women, Sooner Or Later.