There Is A Genius Of A Nation,

Man's Life Is A Progress, Not A Station.

Sleep Is Not, Death Is Not; Who Seem To Die Live. House You Were Born In, Friends Of Your Spring-time, Old Man And Young Maid, Day's Toil And It's Guerdon, They Are All Vanishing, Fleeing To Fables, Cannot Be Moored

A Party Is Perpetually Corrupted By Personality.

The Dead Sleep In Their Moonless Night; My Business Is With The Living.

The Borrower Runs In His Own Debt.