Life Is Too Short For Chess.

No Ear Can Hear Nor Tongue Can Tell The Tortures Of The Inward Hell!

I Can't But Say It Is An Awkward Sight To See One's Native Land Receding Through The Growing Waters; It Unmans One Quite, Especially When Life Is Rather New.

Death, So Called, Is A Thing Which Makes Men Weep, And Yet A Third Of Life Is Passed In Sleep.

A Quiet Conscience Makes One So Serene.

A Rose With All Its Sweetest Leaves Yet Folded.