Stillness Of Person And Steadiness Of Features

What Refuge Is There For The Victim Who Is Oppressed With The Feeling That There Are A Thousand New Books He Ought To Read, While Life Is Only Long Enough For Him To Attempt To Read A Hundred?

Death Tugs At My Ear And Says, 'live. I Am Coming.

Without Wearing Any Mask We Are Conscious Of, We Have A Special Face For Each Friend.

Whatever Comes From The Brain Carries The Hue Of The Place It Came From, And Whatever Comes From The Heart Carries The Heat And Color Of Its Birthplace.

I Hate Paying Taxes. But I Love The Civilization They Give Me