Father Calls Me William, Sister Calls Me

Mr. Clarke Played The King All Evening As Though Under Constant Fear That Someone Else Was About To Play The Ace.

Books Do Actually Consume Air And Exhale Perfumes.

How Gracious Those Dews Of Solace That Over My Senses Fall At The Clink Of The Ice In The Pitcher The Boy Brings Up The Hall.

He Is So Mean, He Won't Let His Little Baby Have More Than One Measle At A Time.

No Book Can Be Appreciated Until It Has Been Slept With And Dreamed Over.