O, What A Tangled Web We Weave

Cats Are A Mysterious Kind Of Folk.

Now, It Is Well Known, That A Man May With More Impunity Be Guilty Of An Actual Breach Either Of Real Good Breeding Or Of Good Morals, Than Appear Ignorant Of The Most Minute Point Of Fashionable Etiquette.

He That Climbs The Tall Tree Has Won Right To The Fruit, He That Leaps The Wide Gulf Should Prevail In His Suit.

Sordid Selfishness Doth Contract And Narrow Our Benevolence, And Cause Us, Like Serpents, To Infold Ourselves Within Ourselves, And To Turn Out Our Stings To The Entire World Besides.

One Hour Of Life, Crowded To The Full With Glorious Action, And Filled With Noble Risks, Is Worth Whole Years Of Those Mean Observances Of Paltry Decorum, In Which Men Steal Through Existence, Like Sluggish Waters Through A Marsh, Without Either Honor Or Observation.