Land Of Lost Gods And Godlike Men.

They Truly Mourn, That Mourn Without A Witness.

Friendship May, And Often Does, Grow Into Love, But Love Never Subsides Into Friendship.

I Have Imbibed Such A Love For Money That I Keep Some Sequins In A Drawer To Count, And Cry Over Them Once A Week.

Italia! O Italia! Thou Who Hast The Fatal Gift Of Beauty.

Tis Strange,-but True; For Truth Is Always Strange; Stranger Than Fiction: If It Could Be Told, How Much Would Novels Gain By The Exchange! How Differently The World Would Men Behold!