A Certain Portion Of The

A Moment's Thinking Is An Hour In Words.

Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright And Yellow, Hard And Cold!

There Is Not A String Attuned To Mirth But Has Its Chord Of Melancholy.

I Love Thee - I Love Thee, 'tis All That I Can Say, It Is My Vision In The Night, My Dreaming In The Day.

Apothegms Form A Short Cut To Much Knowledge.