The Coward's Weapon, Poison.

Our Acts Our Angels Are, For Good Or Ill, Our Fatal Shadows That Walk By Us Still.

Ask How To Live? Write, Write, Write, Anything; The World's A Fine Believing World, Write News.

Great Actions Speak Great Minds.

He Who Goes To Bed, And Goes To Bed Sober, Falls As The Leaves Do, And Dies In October; But He Who Goes To Bed, And Goes To Bed Mellow, Lives As He Ought To Do, And Dies An Honest Fellow.

Drink Today, And Drown All Sorrow; You Shall Perhaps Not Do Tomorrow.