Philologists, Who Chase A Painting Syllable Through

O Winter, Ruler Of The Inverted Year!

Now Stir The Fire, And Close The Shutters Fast, Let Fall The Curtains, Wheel The Sofa Around, And While The Bubbling And Loud-hissing Urn Throws Up A Steamy Column, And The Cups That Cheer But Not Inebriate, Wait On Each, So Let Us Welcome Peaceful Evening In

Habits Are Soon Assumed; But When We Strive To Strip Them Off, 'tis Being Flayed Alive.

A Teacher Should Be Sparing Of His Smile.

I Venerate The Man Whose Heart Is Warm, Whose Hands Are Pure, Whose Doctrine And Whose Life, Coincident, Exhibit Lucid Proof That He Is Honest In The Sacred Cause.