A Fool's Wild Speech Confounds The Wise.

Stood For His Country's Glory Fast, And Nailed Her Colors To The Mast!

Like The Dew On The Mountain, Like The Foam On The River, Like The Bubble On The Fountain, Thou Art Gone, And For Ever!

Land Of My Sires! What Mortal Hand Can E'er Untie The Filial Band That Knits Me To Thy Rugged Strand!

Love Will Subsist On Wonderfully Little Hope But Not Altogether Without It.

The Half Hour Between Waking And Rising Has All My Life Proved Propitious To Any Task Which Was Exercising My Invention... It Was Always When I First Opened My Eyes That The Desired Ideas Thronged Upon Me.