Perfect Nonsense Goes On In The World.

I Am Very Fond Of The Modest Manner Of Life Of Those Solitary Owners Of Remote Villages, Who In Little Russia Are Commonly Called "old-fashioned," Who Are Like Tumbledown Picturesque Little Houses, Delightful In Their Simplicity And Complete Unlikeness To The New Smooth Buildings Whose Walls Have Not Yet Been Discolored By The Rain, Whose Roofs Are Not Yet Covered With Green Lichen, And Whose Porch Does Not Display Its Bricks Through The Peeling Stucco.

There Are People Who Exist In This World Not Like Entities But Like The Speckles Or Spots On Something.

The More Debris There Is The More It Will Show The Governor's Activity.

[f]or Contemporary Judgment Does Not Recognize That Much Depth Of Soul Is Needed To Light Up The Picture Drawn From Contemptible Life And Elevate It Into A Pearl Of Creation.

It Is No Use To Blame The Looking Glass If Your Face Is Awry.