Bells Are Musics Laughter.

Well For The Drones Of The Social Hive That There Are Bees Of An Industrious Turn, Willing, For An Infinitesimal Share Of The Honey, To Undertake The Labor Of Its Fabrication.

Oh! God! That Bread Should Be So Dear, And Flesh And Blood So Cheap!

To Attempt To Advise Conceited People Is Like Whistling Against The Wind.

I Love Thee - I Love Thee, 'tis All That I Can Say, It Is My Vision In The Night, My Dreaming In The Day.

The Quaker Loves An Ample Brim, A Hat That Bows To No Salaam; And Dear The Beaver Is To Him As If It Never Made A Dam.