Some People Are Nobody's Enemies But Their

And Still I Stood Looking At The House, Thinking How Happy I Should Be If I Lived There With Her, And Knowing That I Never Was Happy With Her, But Always Miserable.

The Last Trumpet Ever To Be Sounded Shall Blow Even Algebra To Wreck.

Joe Gave Me Some More Gravy.

Consider Nothing Impossible, Then Treat Possiblities As Probabilities.

Black Are The Brooding Clouds And Troubled The Deep Waters, When The Sea Of Thought, First Heaving From A Calm, Gives Up Its Dead