If Thou Would'st Have Me Sing And

My Motto Is: Contented With Little, Yet Wishing For More.

Satire Does Not Look Pretty Upon A Tombstone.

We Are Nothing; Less Than Nothing, And Dreams. We Are Only What Might Have Been.

Is The World All Grown Up? Is Childhood Dead? Or Is There Not In The Bosom Of The Wisest And The Best Some Of The Child's Heart Left, To Respond To Its Earliest Enchantments?

A Miser Is Sometimes A Grand Personification Of Fear. He Has A Fine Horror Of Poverty; And He Is Not Content To Keep Want From The Door, Or At Arm's Length, But He Places It, By Heaping Wealth Upon Wealth, At A Sublime Distance!