The World, Dear Agnes, Is A Strange

Good Heavens! For More Than Forty Years I Have Been Speaking Prose Without Knowing It.

Nearly All Men Die Of Their Medicines, Not Of Their Diseases.

The World, Dear Agnes, Is A Strange Affair.

Grammar, Which Knows How To Lord It Over Kings, And With High Hands Makes Them Obey Its Laws.

There Is No Secret Of The Heart Which Our Actions Do Not Disclose.