God Bless Us Every One! Said Tiny

Procrastination Is The Thief Of Time, Collar Him.

They Whirled Past The Dark Trees, As Feathers Would Be Swept Before A Hurricane. Houses, Gates, Churches, Hay-stacks, Objects Of Every Kind They Shot By, With A Velocity And Noise Like Roaring Waters Suddenly Let Loose. Still The Noise Of Pursuit Grew Louder, And Still My Uncle Could Hear The Young Lady Wildly Screaming, "faster! Faster!"

The One Great Principle Of The English Law Is, To Make Business For Itself. There Is No Other Principle Distinctly, Certainly, And Consistently Maintained Through All Its Narrow Turnings. Viewed By This Light It Becomes A Coherent Scheme, And Not The Monstrous Maze The Laity Are Apt To Think It. Let Them But Once Clearly Perceive That Its Grand Principle Is To Make Business For Itself At Their Expense, And Surely They Will Cease To Grumble.

Buy An Annuity Cheap, And Make Your Life Interesting To Yourself And Everybody Else That Watches The Speculation.

It Had Grown Darker As They Talked, And The Wind Was Sawing And The Sawdust Was Whirling Outside Paler Windows. The Underlying Churchyard Was Already Settling Into Deep Dim Shade, And The Shade Was Creeping Up To The Housetops Among Which They Sat. "as If," Said Eugene, "as If The Churchyard Ghosts Were Rising."