A Sick Room Is At

Why Should We Censure Othello When The Criterion Lover Says, "thou Shalt Have No Other Gods Before Me"?

Dreams Are The Subtle Dower That Make Us Rich An Hour Then Fling Us Poor Out Of The Purple Door.

I Miss The Grasshoppers Much, But Suppose It Is All For The Best. I Should Become Too Much Attached To A Trotting World.

The Possible's Slow Fuse Is Lit By The Imagination.

Speech Is One Symptom Of Affection; And Silence One; The Perfect Communication Is Heard Of None.