They Truly Mourn, That Mourn Without A

No Hand Can Make The Clock Strike For Me The Hours That Are Passed.

The Simple Wordsworth . . . / Who, Both By Precept And Example, Shows / That Prose Is Verse, And Verse Is Merely Prose.

But Stories Somehow Lengthen When Begun.

Nothing Can Confound A Wise Man More Than Laughter From A Dunce.

A Quiet Conscience Makes One So Serene.