I Entrench Myself In My Books Equally

The Only Place A New Hat Can Be Carried Into With Safety Is A Church, For There Is Plenty Of Room There.

We Really Cannot See What Equanimity There Is In Jerking A Lacerated Carp Out Of The Water By The Jaws, Merely Because It Has No The Power Of Making A Noise; For We Presume That The Most Philosophic Of Anglers Would Hardly Delight In Catching A Shrieking Fish.

The Drama Is Not A Mere Copy Of Nature, Not A Facsimile. It Is The Free Running Hand Of Genius, Under The Impression Of Its Liveliest Wit Or Most Passionate Impulses, A Thousand Times Adorning Or Feeling All As It Goes; And You Must Read It, As The Healthy Instinct Of Audiences Almost Always Does, If The Critics Will Let Them Alone, With A Grain Of Allowance, And A Tendency To Go Away With As Much Of It For Use As Is Necessary, And The Rest For The Luxury Of Laughter, Pity, Or Poetical Admiration.

If You Become A Nun, Dear, The Bishop Love Will Be; The Cupids Every One, Dear! Will Chant-'we Trust In Thee!'

The Golden Line Is Drawn Between Winter And Summer. Behind All Is Blackness And Darkness And Dissolution. Before Is Hope, And Soft Airs, And The Flowers, And The Sweet Season Of Hay; And People Will Cross The Fields, Reading Or Walking With One Another; And Instead Of The Rain That Soaks Death Into The Heart Of Green Things, Will Be The Rain Which They Drink With Delight; And There Will Be Sleep On The Grass At Midday, And Early Rising In The Morning, And Long Moonlight Evenings.