I Look Into Your Great Brown Eyes,

And When, In The Evening Of Life, The Golden Clouds Rest Sweetly And Invitingly Upon The Golden Mountains, And The Light Of Heaven Streams Down Through The Gathering Mists Of Death, I Wish You A Peaceful And Abundant Entrance Into That World Of Blessedness, Where The Great Riddle Of Life Will Be Unfolded To You In The Quick Consciousness Of A Soul Redeemed And Purified.

Of All The Scamps Society Knows, The Traditional Good Fellow Is The Most Despicable.

Play May Not Have So High A Place In The Divine Economy, But Is Has As Legitimate A Place As Prayer.

Blessed Is That Man Who Knows His Own Distaff And Has Found His Own Spindle.

Work For Immortality If You Will: Then Wait For It.