Caricature Is Rough Truth.

Lowly, With A Broken Neck, The Crocus Lays Her Cheek To Mire.

Prepare, You Lovers, To Know Love A Thing Of Moods: Not Like Hard Life, Of Laws.

We Never Know What's In Us Till We Stand By Ourselves.

Much Benevolence Of The Passive Order May Be Traced To A Disinclination To Inflict Pain Upon Oneself.

It's Past Parsons To Console Us: No, Nor No Doctor Fetch For Me: I Can Die Without My Bolus; Two Of A Trade, Lass, Never Agree! Parson And Doctor!--don't They Love Rarely Fighting The Devil In Other Men's Fields! Stand Up Yourself And Match Him Fairly: Then See How The Rascal Yields!