Wynken, Blynken, And Nod One Night Sailed

Mr. Clarke Played The King All Evening As Though Under Constant Fear That Someone Else Was About To Play The Ace.

No Book Can Be Appreciated Until It Has Been Slept With And Dreamed Over.

Father Calls Me William, Sister Calls Me Will, Mother Calls Me Willie, But The Fellows Call Me Bill!.

Not So, However, With Books, For Books Cannot Change. A Thousand Years Hence They Are What You Find Them To-day, Speaking The Same Words, Holding Forth The Same Cheer, The Same Promise, The Same Comfort; Always Constant, Laughing With Those Who Laugh And Weeping With Those Who Weep.

How Gracious Those Dews Of Solace That Over My Senses Fall At The Clink Of The Ice In The Pitcher The Boy Brings Up The Hall.