Grief Never Mended No Broken Bones.

There Are Some Upon This Earth Of Yours,' Returned The Spirit, 'who Lay Claim To Know Us, And Who Do Their Deeds Of Passion, Pride, Ill-will, Hatred, Envy, Bigotry, And Selfishness In Our Name; Who Are As Strange To Us And All Our Kith And Kin, As If They Had Never Lived. Remember That, And Charge Their Doings On Themselves, Not Us.

'do You Spell It With A 'v' Or A 'w'?' Inquired The Judge. 'that Depends Upon The Taste And Fancy Of The Speller, My Lord'.

Sadly, Sadly, The Sun Rose; It Rose Upon No Sadder Sight Than The Man Of Good Abilities And Good Emotions, Incapable Of Their Directed Exercise, Incapable Of His Own Help And His Own Happiness, Sensible Of The Blight On Him, And Resigning Himself To Let It Eat Him Away.

An Unfinished Coffin On Black Tressels, Which Stood In The Middle Of The Shop, Looked So Gloomy And Death-like That A Cold Tremble Came Over Him, Every Time His Eyes Wandered In The Direction Of The Dismal Object: From Which He Almost Expected To See Some Frightful Form Slowly Rear Its Head, To Drive Him Mad With Terror.

Accidentally Consumed Five Biscuits When I Wasn't Paying Attention. Those Biscuits Are Wily Fellows - They Leap In Like Sugary Ninjas