Histories In Blazonry And Poems In Stone.

Even Of Death Christianity Has Made A Terror Which Was Unknown To The Gay Calmness Of The Pagan And The Stoical Repose Of The Indian.

Dishonor Is Like The Aaron's Beard In The Hedgerows; It Can Only Poison If It Be Plucked.

You Have Not A Boat Of Your Own, That Is Just It; That Is What Women Always Suffer From; They Have To Steer, But The Craft Is Some One Else's, And The Haul Too.

Belief Of Some Sort Is The Lifeblood Of Art.

There Is No Applause That So Flatters A Man As That Which He Wrings From Unwilling Throats.