I Recollected One Story There Was In

The Flowers That Sleep By Night, Opened Their Gentle Eyes And Turned Them To The Day. The Light, Creation's Mind, Was Everywhere, And All Things Owned Its Power.

Why Should I Disguise What You Know So Well, But What The Crowd Never Dream Of? We Companies Are All Birds Of Prey; Mere Birds Of Prey. The Only Question Is, Whether In Serving Our Own Turn, We Can Serve Yours Too; Whether In Double-lining Our Own Nest, We Can Put A Single Living Into Yours.

"it's An Old Habit Of Mine, Wal'r," Said The Captain, "any Time These Fifty Year. When You See Ned Cuttle Bite His Nails, Wal'r, Then You May Know That Ned Cuttle's Aground."

If Natur Has Gifted A Man With Powers Of Argeyment, A Man Has A Right To Make The Best Of 'em, And Has Not A Right To Stand On False Delicacy, And Deny That He Is So Gifted; For That Is A Turning Of His Back On Natur, A Flouting Of Her, A Slighting Of Her Precious Caskets, And A Proving Of One's Self To Be A Swine That Isn't Worth Her Scattering Pearls Before.

What Connexion Can There Be, Between The Place In Lincolnshire, The House In Town, The Mercury In Powder, And The Whereabout Of Jo The Outlaw With The Broom, Who Had That Distant Ray Of Light Upon Him When He Swept The Churchyard-step? What Connexion Can There Have Been Between Many People In The Innumerable Histories Of This World, Who, From Opposite Sides Of Great Gulfs, Have, Nevertheless, Been Very Curiously Brought Together!