My Body Is But The Lees Of

Man Is A Money-making Animal, Which Propensity Too Often Interferes With His Benevolence.

Ladies Are Like Creeds; If You Cannot Speak Well Of Them, Say Nothing.

The Lightning Flashes Through My Skull; Mine Eyeballs Ache And Ache; My Whole Beaten Brain Seems As Beheaded, And Rolling On Some Stunning Ground.

At Last The Anchor Was Up, The Sails Were Set, And Off We Glided. It Was A Sharp, Cold Christmas; And As The Short Northern Day Merged Into Night, We Found Ourselves Almost Broad Upon The Wintry Ocean, Whose Freezing Spray Cased Us In Ice, As In Polished Armor.

There Never Was A Great Man Yet Who Spent All His Life Inland.