I Think It's Perfectly Lovely The Way

Never Ascribe To An Opponent Motives Meaner Than Your Own.

If He Thought At All, But I Don't Believe He Ever Thought, It Was That He And His Shadow, When Brought Near Each Other, Would Join Like Drops Of Water.

When Ladies Used To Come To Me In Dreams, I Said, 'pretty Mother, Pretty Mother.' But When At Last She Really Came, I Shot Her.

For When You Looked Into My Mother's Eyes You Knew, As If He Had Told You, Why God Sent Her Into The World - It Was To Open Then Minds Of All Who Looked To Beautiful Thoughts. And That Is The Beginning And End Of Literature.

What A Polite Game Tennis Is. The Chief Word In It Seems To Be "sorry" And Admiration Of Each Other's Play Crosses The Net As Frequently As The Ball.