In Hope To Merit Heaven By Making

A Little Still She Strove, And Much Repented, And Whispering “i Will Ne'er Consent”—consented.

The World Is A Bundle Of Hay, Mankind Are The Asses That Pull, Each Tugs In A Different Way And The Greatest Of All Is John Bull!

There Is No Instinct Like That Of The Heart.

Despair And Genius Are Too Oft Connected

There Is Something Pagan In Me That I Cannot Shake Off. In Short, I Deny Nothing, But Doubt Everything.