The Only Place A New Hat Can

I Entrench Myself In My Books Equally Against Sorrow And The Weather.

Bread, Milk And Butter Are Of Venerable Antiquity. They Taste Of The Morning Of The World.

Cats At Firesides Live Luxuriously And Are The Picture Of Comfort.

Those Who Have Lost An Infant Are Never, In A Way, Without An Infant.

Affection, Like Melancholy, Magnifies Trifles; But The Magnifying Of The One Is Like Looking Through A Telescope At Heavenly Objects; That Of The Other, Like Enlarging Monsters With A Microscope.