To Country People Cows Are Mild, And

The Majority Of Mankind Is Lazyminded, Incurious, Absorbed In Vanities, And Tepid In Emotion, And Is Therefore Incapable Of Either Much Doubt Or Much Faith.

The Purpose Of Literature Is To Turn Blood Into Ink.

Paint Me The Bold Anfractuous Rocks Faced By The Snarled And Yelping Seas.

We Have Lingered In The Chambers Of The Sea By Sea-girls Wreathed With Seaweed Red And Brown Till Human Voices Wake Us... And We Drown.

Before A Cat Will Condescend To Treat You As A Trusted Friend, Some Little Token Of Esteem Is Needed, Like A Dish Of Cream; And You Might Now And Then Supply Some Caviare, Or Strassburg Pie, Some Potted Grouse, Or Salmon Paste — He's Sure To Have His Personal Taste. (i Know A Cat, Who Makes A Habit Of Eating Nothing Else But Rabbit, And When He's Finished, Licks His Paws So's Not To Waste The Onion Sauce.) A Cat's Entitled To Expect These Evidences Of Respect. And So In Time You Reach Your Aim, And Finally Call Him By His Name.