Farewell's A Bitter Word To Say.

Toil Is The Portion Of Day, As Sleep Is That Of Night; But If There Be One Hour Of The Twenty-four Which Has The Life Of Day Without Its Labor, And The Rest Of Night Without Its Slumber, It Is The Lovely And Languid Hour Of Twilight.

I Hate The Word 'ought' - It Always Implies Something Dull, Cold, And Commonplace. The 'ought Nots' Of Life Are Its Pleasantest Things.

Consistency Is A Human Word, But It Certainly Expresses Nothing Human.

All Beginnings Are Very Troublesome Things.

A Friend Is Never Alarmed For Us In The Right Place.