I Covet Honour In The Same Way

Every Town, Like Every Man, Has Its Own Countenance; They Have A Common Likeness And Yet Are Different; One Keeps In His Mind All Their Peculiar Touches.

Everything You Look At Can Become A Fairy Tale And You Can Get A Story From Everything You Touch.

Travelling Expands The Mind Rarely.

And The Top Spoke No More Of His Old Love; For That Dies Away When The Beloved Objects Has Lain For Five Years In A Roof Gutter And Got Wet Through; Yes, One Does Not Know Her Again When One Meets Her In The Dust Box.

There Was Once A Bundle Of Matches, And They Were Frightfully Proud Because Of Their High Origin. Their Family Tree, That Is To Say The Great Pine Tree Of Which They Were Each A Little Splinter, Had Been The Giant Of The Forest.