Pretty Women Without Religion Are Like Flowers

Every Woman Is The Gift Of A World To Me.

Poverty Sits By The Cradle Of All Our Great Men And Rocks All Of Them To Manhood.

Human Misery Is Too Great For Men To Die Without Faith.

What Lies Lurk In Kisses.

Round My Cradle Shimmered The Last Moonbeams Of The Eighteenth Century And The First Morning Rays Of The Nineteenth.