Farewell, Farewell To Thee, Araby's Daughter! Thus

May My Last Breath Be Drawn Through A Pipe, And Exhaled In A Jest.

I Grow Ominously Tired Of Official Confinement. Thirty Years Have I Served The Philistines, And My Neck Is Not Subdued To The Yoke. You Don't Know How Wearisome It Is To Breathe The Air Of Four Pent Walls Without Relief Day After Day, All The Golden Hours Of The Day Between Ten And Four Without Ease Or Interposition ... These Pestilential Clerk-faces Always In One's Dish. O For A Few Years Between The Grave And The Desk!

Separate From The Pleasure Of Your Company, I Don't Much Care If I Never See Another Mountain In My Life.

When Thus The Heart Is In A Vein Of Tender Thought, The Simplest Strain Can Touch It With Peculiar Power.

Anything Awful Makes Me Laugh. I Misbehaved Once At A Funeral.