There Is A Cunning Which We In

Begin Doing What You Want To Do Now. We Are Not Living In Eternity. We Have Only This Moment, Sparkling Like A Star In Our Hand - And Melting Like A Snowflake.

He That Hath Knowledge Spareth His Words.

The Breath Of Flowers Is Far Sweeter In The Air Than In The Hand.

Above All, Believe It, The Sweetest Canticle Is Nunc Dimittis, When A Man Hath Obtained Worthy Ends And Expectations. Death Hath This Also, That It Openeth The Gate To Good Fame, And Extinguisheth Envy.

A Sudden Bold And Unexpected Question Doth Many Times Surprise A Man And Lay Him Open.