O The Anguish Of The

The Intensest Form Of Hatred Is That Rooted In Fear.

Childhood Has No Forebodings; But Then, It Is Soothed By No Memories Of Outlived Sorrow.

There Is Hardly Any Contact More Depressing To A Young Ardent Creature Than That Of A Mind In Which Years Full Of Knowledge Seem To Have Issued In A Blank Absence Of Interest Or Sympathy.

Scepticismcan Never Be Thoroughly Applied, Else Life Would Come To A Standstill.

Some Folks' Tongues Are Like The Clocks As Run On Strikin', Not To Tell You The Time O' The Day, But Because There's Summat Wrong I' Their Own Inside.