Out Of Sleeping A Waking, Out Of

Steam Is No Stronger Now Than It Was A Hundred Years Ago, But It Is Put To Better Use.

Persons Are Fine Things, But They Cost So Much! For Thee I Must Pay Me.

The End Of The Human Race Will Be That It Will Eventually Die Of Civilization.

The Lover Never Sees Personal Resemblances In His Mistress To Her Kindred Or To Others. His Friends Find In Her A Likeness To Hermother, Or Her Sisters, Or To Persons Not Of Her Blood. The Lover Sees No Resemblance Except To Summer Evenings And Diamond Mornings, To Rainbows And The Song Of Birds.

Bring Me Wine, But Wine Which Never Grew In The Belly Of The Grape