Treason Seldom Dwells With Courage.

Great Talent Has Always A Little Madness Mixed Up With It.

Cats Are A Very Mysterious Kind Of Folk. There Is Always More Passing In Their Minds Than We Are Aware Of.

Like The Dew On The Mountain, Like The Foam On The River, Like The Bubble On The Fountain, Thou Art Gone, And For Ever!

Merrily, Merrily Goes The Bark On A Breeze From The Northward Free, So Shoots Through The Morning Sky The Lark, Or The Swan Through The Summer Sea.

He That Would Soothe Sorrow Must Not Argue On The Vanity Of The Most Deceitful Hopes.