No Author Is A Man Of Genius

Sleep Is Good, Death Is Better; But Of Course, The Best Thing Would To Have Never Been Born At All.

My Heart Resembles The Ocean; Has Storm, And Ebb And Flow; And Many A Beautiful Pearl Lies Hid In Its Depths Below.

The Beauteous Eyes Of The Spring's Fair Night With Comfort Are Downward Gazing.

The Devil Take These People And Their Language! They Take A Dozen Monosyllabic Words In Their Jaws, Chew Them, Crunch Them And Spit Them Out Again, And Call That Speaking. Fortunately They Are By Nature Fairly Silent, And Although They Gaze At Us Open-mouthed, They Spare Us Long Conversations.

The Fountain Of Love Is The Rose And The Lily, The Sun And The Dove.