I Find My Familiarity With Thee Has

I Had Rather Munch A Crust Of Brown Bread And An Onion In A Corner, Without Any More Ado Or Ceremony, Than Feed Upon Turkey At Another Man?s Table, Where One Is Fain To Sit Mincing And Chewing His Meat An Hour Together, Drink Little, Be Always Wiping His Fingers And His Chops, And Never Dare To Cough Nor Sneeze, Though He Has Never So Much A Mind To It, Nor Do A Many Things Which A Body May Do Freely By One?s Self.

When Life Itself Seems Lunatic, Who Knows Where Madness Lies?

Every Production Must Resemble Its Author.

Controlling My Temper Is Important, ... Sometimes It's Hard, But I Try.

Arms Are My Ornaments, Warfare My Repose.