Wine Is A Treacherous Friend Who You

It Is Seldom That We Find Out How Great Are Our Resources Until We Are Thrown Upon Them.

Four Sweet Lips, Two Pure Souls, And One Undying Affection, - These Are Love's Pretty Ingredients For A Kiss.

The Great Artist Is A Slave To His Ideals.

In General, Inquiry Ceases When We Adopt A Theory. After That, We Overlook Whatever Makes Against It, And See And Think, And Talk And Write, Only In Its Favor. Indeed, When We Have A Snug, Comfortable Theory, To Which We Are Much Attached, They Appear To Us As A Very Mean Set Of Facts That Will Not Square With It.

Melancholy Sees The Worst Of Things...[rather Than The Best]