Alas, For The Effects Of Bad Tea

Any Relic Of The Dead Is Precious, If They Were Valued Living.

The Lord Help Us!' He Soliloquised In An Undertone Of Peevish Displeasure, While Relieving Me Of My Horse: Looking, Meantime, In My Face So Sourly That I Charitably Conjectured He Must Have Need Of Divine Aid To Digest His Dinner, And His Pious Ejaculation Had No Reference To My Unexpected Advent.

The Entire World Is A Collection Of Memoranda That She Did Exist, And That I Have Lost Her.

It Is Strange People Should Be So Greedy, When They Are Alone In The World.

There Is Not Room For Death, Nor Atom That His Might Could Render Void: Thou - Thou Art Being And Breath, And What Thou Art May Never Be Destroyed.