For A Ballad's A Thing You Expect

Reproof On Her Lip, But A Smile In Her Eye.

There's Luck In Odd Numbers.

To Return After Long Years Of Painful Absence To Some Place Which Has Been The Scene Of Our Former Joys, And Whence The Force Of Circumstance, And Not Choice, Has Driven Us, Is Oppressive To The Heart.

Come Live In My Heart, And Pay No Rent.

When Once The Itch Of Literature Comes Over A Man, Nothing Can Cure It But The Scratching Of A Pen. But If You Have Not A Pen, I Suppose You Must Scratch Any Way You Can.