No Hand Can Make The Clock Strike

There Is A Tear For All Who Die, A Mourner O'er The Humblest Grave.

Venice Once Was Dear, The Pleasant Place Of All Festivity, The Revel Of The Earth, The Masque Of Italy.

The Fact Is That My Wife If She Had Common Sense Would Have More Power Over Me Than Any Other Whatsoever, For My Heart Always Alights Upon The Nearest Perch.

Out Of Chaos God Made A World, And Out Of High Passions Comes A People.

I Am About To Be Married, And Am Of Course In All The Misery Of A Man In Pursuit Of Happiness.