A Cruel Story Runs On Wheels, And

There Is A Chord In Every Heart That Has A Sigh In It If Touched Aright.

Charity In Various Guises Is An Intruder The Poor See Often; But Courtesy And Delicacy Are Visitants With Which They Are Seldom Honored.

When One Has Not Father, Or Mother, Or Brother, And All One's Friends Have Barely Bread Enough For Themselves, Life Cannot Be Very Easy, Nor Its Crusts Very Many At Any Time.

It Is Quite Easy For Stupid People To Be Happy; They Believe In Fables, And They Trot On In A Beaten Track Like A Horse On A Tramway.

The Bread Of Bitterness Is The Food On Which Men Grow To Their Fullest Stature; The Waters Of Bitterness Are The Debatable Ford Through Which They Reach The Shores Of Wisdom; The Ashes Boldly Grasped And Eaten Without Faltering Are The Price That Must Be Paid For The Golden Fruit Of Knowledge.