People Of Humor Are Always In Some

Oh Sleep! It Is A Gentle Thing, Beloved From Pole To Pole, To Mary Queen The Praise Be Given! She Sent The Gentle Sleep From Heaven, That Slid Into My Soul.

There Is In Every Human Countenance Either A History Or A Prophecy Which Must Sadden, Or At Least Soften Every Reflecting Observer.

Indignation At Literary Wrongs I Leave To Men Born Under Happier Stars. I Cannot Afford It.

Iago's Soliloquy - The Motive-hunting Of A Motiveless Malignity - How Awful It Is!

The Curiosity Of An Honorable Mind Willingly Rests There, Where The Love Of Truth Does Not Urge It Farther Onward, And The Love Of Its Neighbor Bids It Stop; In Other Words, It Willingly Stops At The Point Where The Interests Of Truth Do Not Beckon It Onward, And Charity Cries, Halt!