Don't Be Too Quickto Break Bad Habits:

If, Of All Words Of Tongue And Pen, The Saddest Are, It Might Have Been,' More Sad Are These We Daily See: 'it Is, But Hadn't Ought To Be!'

The Delicate Thought, That Cannot Find Expression, For Ruder Speech Too Fair, That, Like Thy Petals, Trembles In Possession, And Scatters On The Air.

The Only Sure Thing About Luck Is That It Will Change.

A Bird In The Hand Is A Certainty, But A Bird In The Bush May Sing.

Your Voices Break And Falter In The Darkness, Break, Falter, And Are Still.