A Babe Is Fed With Milk And

The English Writer, Charles Lamb, Said One Day: "i Hate That Man." "but You Don't Know Him." "of Course, I Don't," Said Lamb. "do You Think I Could Possibly Hate A Man I Know?"

Boys Are Capital Fellows In Their Own Way, Among Their Mates; But They Are Unwholesome Companions For Grown People.

(the Pig) Hath A Fair Sepulchre In The Grateful Stomach Of The Judicious Epicure - And For Such A Tomb Might Be Content To Die.

In Some Respects The Better A Book Is, The Less It Demands From The Binding.

An Album Is A Garden, Not For Show Planted, But Use; Where Wholesome Herbs Should Grow.