You Canna Expect To Be Baith Grand

The Fairies, As Their Custom, Clapped Their Hands With Delight Over Their Cleverness, And They Were So Madly In Love With The Little House That They Could Not Bear To Think They Had Finished It.

We Are All Failures - At Least The Best Of Us Are.

A House Is Never Still In Darkness To Those Who Listen Intently; There Is A Whispering In Distant Chambers, An Unearthly Hand Presses The Snib Of The Window, The Latch Rises. Ghosts Were Created When The First Man Awoke In The Night.

Temper Is A Weapon That We Hold By The Blade.

The Praise That Comes From Love Does Not Make Us Vain, But More Humble.