The Sun Himself Is Weak When He

Upon The Purple Tree-tops Far Away, And On The Green Height Near At Hand Up Which The Shades Were Slowly Creeping, There Was An Equal Hush. Between The Real Landscape And Its Shadow In The Water, There Was No Division; Both Were So Untroubled And Clear, And, While So Fraught With Solemn Mystery Of Life And Death, So Hopefully Reassuring To The Gazer's Soothed Heart, Because So Tenderly And Mercifully Beautiful.

Take The Pencil And Write Under My Name, 'i Forgive Her.

Eccentricities Of Genius.

I Wish I Were The Commander In Chief In India... I Should Do My Utmost To Exterminate The Race Upon Whom The Stain Of The Late Cruelties Rested.

For Your Popular Rumour, Unlike The Rolling Stone Of The Proverb, Is One Which Gathers A Deal Of Moss In Its Wanderings Up And Down.