At The Round Earth's Imagined Corners, Blow

Death Is An Ascension To A Better Library.

No Spring Nor Summer Beauty Hath Such Grace As I Have Seen In One Autumnal Face.

The Difference Between The Reason Of Man And The Instinct Of The Beast Is This, That The Beast Does But Know, But The Man Knows That He Knows.

Women Are Like The Arts, Forced Unto None, Open To All Searchers, Unprized, If Unknown.

Festive Alcohol Sometimes Leads To An Excess Of Honesty.