The Saddest Thing That Befalls A Soul

A Man Gazing At The Stars Is Proverbially At The Mercy Of The Puddles In The Road.

We Twain Have Met Like The Ships Upon The Sea, Who Behold An Hour's Converse, So Short, So Sweet: One Little Hour! And Then, Away They Speed On Lonely Paths, Through Mist, And Cloud, And Foam, To Meet No More.

It Is A Characteristic Of Pleasure That We Can Never Recognize It To Be Pleasure Till After It Is Gone.

I Would Rather Be Remembered By A Song Than By A Victory.

Fine Phrases I Value More Than Bank-notes. I Have Ear For No Other Harmony Than The Harmony Of Words. To Be Occasionally Quoted Is The Only Fame I Care For.