Pleasure Has No Logic; It

The Great Man Is The Man Who Does A Thing For The First Time.

A Poem Round And Perfect As A Star.

The World Is Not So Much In Need Of New Thoughts As That When Thought Grows Old And Worn With Usage It Should, Like Current Coin, Be Called In, And, From The Mint Of Genius, Reissued Fresh And New.

The Sea Complains Upon A Thousand Shores.

Pride's Chickens Have Bonny Feathers, But They Are An Expensive Brood To Rear. They Eat Up Everything, And Are Always Lean When Brought To Market.