There Are Books Of Which The Backs

Trifles Make The Sum Of Life.

Poetry's Unnat'ral; No Man Ever Talked Poetry 'cept A Beadle On Boxin' Day, Or Warren's Blackin' Or Rowland's Oil, Or Some O' Them Low Fellows; Never You Let Yourself Down To Talk Poetry, My Boy.

I Made A Compact With Myself That In My Person Literature Should Stand By Itself, Of Itself, And For Itself.

A Word In Earnest Is As Good As A Speech.

Are There No Prisons?