Nature, Always Inartistic, Takes Pleasure In Creating

Idleness, Like Kisses, To Be Sweet Must Be Stolen.

We Want Everything. All The Happiness That Earth And Heaven Are Capable Of Bestowing. Creature Comforts, And Heart And Soul Comforts Also; And, Proud-spirited Beings That We Are, We Will Not Be Put Off With A Part. Give Us Only Everything, And We Will Be Content. And, After All, Cinderella, You Have Had Your Day. Some Little Dogs Never Get Theirs. You Must Not Be Greedy. You Have Known Happiness. The Palace Was Paradise For Those Few Months, And The Prince's Arms Were About You, Cinderella, The Prince's Kisses On Your Lips; The Gods Themselves Cannot Take That From You.

In The Church Is A Memorial To Mrs. Sarah Hill, Who Bequeathed 1 Pound Annually, To Be Divided At Easter, Between Two Boys And Two Girls Who "have Never Been Undutiful To Their Parents; Who Have Never Been Known To Swear Or To Tell Untruths, To Steal, Or To Break Windows." Fancy Giving Up All That For Five Shillings A Year! It Is Not Worth It!

It Takes 3 Girls To Tow Always; Two To Hold The Rope, And The Other One Runs Round And Round, And Giggles.

It Is In Our Faults And Failings, Not In Our Virtues, That We Touch One Another And Find Sympathy. We Differ Widely Enough In Our Nobler Qualities. It Is In Our Follies That We Are At One.