But I, When I Undress Me Each

No Book Can Be Appreciated Until It Has Been Slept With And Dreamed Over.

There Is A Glorious Candor In An Honest Quart Of Wine, A Certain Inspitation Which I Cannot Well Define.

He Is So Mean, He Won't Let His Little Baby Have More Than One Measle At A Time.

Used To Think That Luck Wuz Luck And Nuthin' Else But Luck-- It Made No Diff'rence How Or When Or Where Or Why It Struck; But Sev'ral Years Ago I Changt My Mind, An' Now Proclaim That Luck's A Kind Uv Science--same As Any Other Game.

How Gracious Those Dews Of Solace That Over My Senses Fall At The Clink Of The Ice In The Pitcher The Boy Brings Up The Hall.