To Bring Deserving Things Down By Setting

Their Demeanor Is Invariably Morose, Sullen, Clownish And Repulsive. I Should Think There Is Not, On The Face Of The Earth, A People So Entirely Destitute Of Humor, Vivacity, Or The Capacity For Enjoyment.

They Are Man's And They Cling To Me, Appealing From Their Fathers. This Boy Is Ignorance And This Girl Is Want. Beware Them Both, And All Of Their Degree, But Most Of All Beware This Boy For On His Brow I See That Written Which Is Doom, Unless The Writing Be Erased.

We All Draw A Little And Compose A Little, And None Of Us Have Any Idea Of Time Or Money.

Listlessness To Everything, But Brooding Sorrow, Was The Night That Fell On My Undisciplined Heart. Let Me Look Up From It - As At Last I Did, Thank Heaven! - And From Its Long, Sad, Wretched Dream, To Dawn.

I Know Enough Of The World Now To Have Almost Lost The Capacity Of Being Much Surprised By Anything