Even The Weakest Disputant Is Made So

But I Have Sinuous Shells Of Pearly Hue Within, And They That Lustre Have Imbibed In The Sun's Palace-porch, Where When Unyoked Chariot-wheel Stands Midway In The Wave: Shake One, And It Awakens; Then Apply Its Polisht Lips To Your Attentive Ear, And It Remembers Its August Abodes, And Murmurs As The Ocean Murmurs There.

Tyrants Never Perish From Tyranny, But Always From Folly,-when Their Fantasies Have Built Up A Palace For Which The Earth Has No Foundation.

The Writing Of The Wise Are The Only Riches Our Posterity Cannot Squander.

There Is Only One Word Of Tenderness We Could Say, Which We Have Not Said Oftentimes Before ; And There Is No Consolation In It. The Happy Never Say, And Never Hear Said, Farewell.

We Are Poor, Indeed, When We Have No Half-wishes Left Us. The Heart And The Imagination Close The Shutters The Instant They Are Gone.