To Most The End Comes As Naturally

To Me, Love Isn't All. I Must Look Up, Not Down, Trust And Honor With My Whole Heart, And Find Strenght And Integrity To Lean On

Good Books, Like Good Friends, Are Few And Chosen; The More Select, The More Enjoyable.

All Is Fish That Comes To The Literary Net. Goethe Puts His Joys And Sorrows Into Poems, I Turn My Adventures Into Bread And Butter.

I Am Lonely, Sometimes, But I Dare Say It's Good For Me.

I've Neither Beauty, Money, Nor Rank, Yet Every Foolish Boy Mistakes My Frank Interest For Something Warmer, And Makes Me Miserable. It Is My Misfortune. Think Of Me What You Will, But Beware Of Me In Time, For Against My Will I May Do You Harm.