Death Is A Sleep That Ends Our

There Is No Lighter Burden, Nor More Agreeable, Than A Pen.

Life In Itself Is Short Enough, But The Physicians With Their Art, Know To Their Amusement, How To Make It Still Shorter.

I Know And Love The Good, Yet, Ah! The Worst Pursue.

I Had Got This Far, And Was Thinking Of What To Say Next, And As My Habit Is, I Was Pricking The Paper Idly With My Pen. And I Thought How, Between One Dip Of The Pen And The Next, Time Goes On, And I Hurry, Drive Myself, And Speed Toward Death. We Are Always Dying. I While I Write, You While You Read, And Others While They Listen Or Stop Their Ears, They Are All Dying.

How Difficult It Is To Save The Bark Of Reputation From The Rocks Of Ignorance.