So I Sit There Kicked My Heels,

Day Is A Snow-white Dove Of Heaven That From The East Glad Message Brings. Night Is A Stealthy, Evil Raven, Wrapped To The Eyes In His Black Wings.

Sorrow Itself Is Not So Hard To Bear As The Thought Of Sorrow Coming. Airy Ghosts, That Work No Harm, Do Terrify Us More Than Men In Steel With Bloody Purposes. Death Is Not Dreadful; 'tis The Dread Of Death— We Die Whene'er We Think Of It!

The Possession Of Gold Has Ruined Fewer Men Than The Lack Of It.

The Fate Of The Worm Refutes The Pretended Ethical Teaching Of The Proverb, Which Assumes To Illustrate The Advantage Of Early Rising And Does So By Showing How Extremely Dangerous It Is.

The Man Who Suspects His Own Tediousness Is Yet To Be Born.