Autumn Is The Harvest Of Greedy Death.

I Only Feel, But Want The Power To Paint.

The Greatest Respect Is Owed To A Child.

There Is Never A Lawsuit But A Woman Is At The Bottom Of It.

Man, Wretched Man, Whene'er He Stoops To Sin, Feels, With The Act, A Strong Remorse Within.

In The Present State Of The World It Is Difficult Not To Write Lampoons.