Coleridge Declares That A Man Cannot Have

Anything Awful Makes Me Laugh. I Misbehaved Once At A Funeral.

I Hate The Man Who Eats Without Knowing What He’s Eating. I Doubt His Taste In More Important Things.

Who First Invented Work, And Bound The Free And Holiday-rejoicing Spirit Down . . . . To That Dry Drudgery At The Desk's Dead Wood? . . . . Sabbathless Satan!

I Am, In Plainer Words, A Bundle Of Prejudices - Made Up Of Likings And Dislikings.

And The Tear That We Shed, Though In Secret It Rolls, Shall Long Keep His Memory Green In Our Souls.