I Cannot Sit And Think; Books Think

I Never Knew An Enemy To Puns Who Was Not An Ill-natured Man.

Oh Stay! Oh Stay! Joy So Seldom Weaves A Chain Like This To-night, That Oh 't Is Pain To Break Its Links So Soon.

To Pile Up Honey Upon Sugar, And Sugar Upon Honey, To An Interminable Tedious Sweetness.

The Only True Time Which A Man Can Properly Call His Own, Is That Which He Has All To Himself; The Rest, Though In Some Sense He May Be Said To Live It, Is Other People's Time, Not His.

I Am, In Plainer Words, A Bundle Of Prejudices - Made Up Of Likings And Dislikings.