The Laughers Are A Majority.

Our Rural Ancestors, With Little Blest, Patient Of Labor When The End Was Rest, Indulged The Day That Housed Their Annual Grain, With Feasts, And Off'rings, And A Thankful Strain.

Give Me Again My Hollow Tree A Crust Of Bread, And Liberty!

I Would Not Be Like Those Authors, Who Forgive Themselves Some Particular Lines For The Sake Of A Whole Poem, And Vice Versa A Whole Poem For The Sake Of Some Particular Lines. I Believe No One Qualification Is So Likely To Make A Good Writer, As The Power Of Rejecting His Own Thoughts.

Heaven Gave To Woman The Peculiar Grace To Spin, To Weep, And Cully Human Race.

Coffee Which Makes The Politician Wise, And See Through All Things With His Half-shut Eyes.