Awful Night! Ancestral Mystery Of Mysteries.

Every Man Who Is Not A Monster, A Mathematician, Or A Mad Philosopher, Is The Slave Of Some Woman Or Other.

The Greatest Benefit We Owe To The Artist, Whether Painter, Poet, Or Novelist, Is The Extension Of Our Sympathies.

It Is The Way With Half The Truth Amidst Which We Live, That It Only Haunts Us And Makes Dull Pulsations That Are Never Born Into Sound.

The Pride Of The Body Is A Barrier Against The Gifts That Purify The Soul.

There's Folks 'ud Stand On Their Heads And Then Say The Fault Was I' Their Boots.