Tea, Late Dinners And The French Revolution.

When Scythrop Grew Up, He Was Sent, As Usual, To A Public School, Where A Little Learning Was Painfully Beaten Into Him, And From Thence To The University, Where It Was Carefully Taken Out Of Him.

A Book That Furnishes No Quotations, Is Me Judice, No Book, — It Is A Plaything.

Time, The Foe Of Man's Dominion, Wheels Around In Ceaseless Flight, Scattering From His Hoary Pinion Shades Of Everlasting Night.

In A Bowl To Sea Went Wise Men Three, On A Brilliant Night Of June: They Carried A Net, And Their Hearts Were Set On Fishing Up The Moon.

I Never Failed To Convince An Audience That The Best Thing They Could Do Was To Go Away.