Enjoy Life. There's Plenty Of Time To

Well, Yes: People Write Poems When They Are In Love, But A Wise Man Will Not Print Them.

Many, Many Steeples Would Have To Be Stacked One On Top Of Another To Reach From The Bottom To The Surface Of The Sea.

I Covet Honour In The Same Way As A Miser Covets Gold.

But Shouldn't All Of Us On Earth Give The Best We Have To Others And Offer Whatever Is In Our Power?

He Looked At The Little Maiden, And She Looked At Him; And He Felt That He Was Melting Away, But He Still Managed To Keep Himself Erect, Shouldering His Gun Bravely. A Door Was Suddenly Opened, The Draught Caught The Little Dancer And She Fluttered Like A Sylph, Straight Into The Fire, To The Soldier, Blazed Up And Was Gone! By This Time The Soldier Was Reduced To A Mere Lump, And When The Maid Took Away The Ashes Next Morning She Found Him, In The Shape Of A Small Tin Heart. All That Was Left Of The Dancer Was Her Spangle, And That Was Burnt As Black As A Coal.