It Is Because I Think So Much

I Am A Neat Hand At Cookery, And I'll Tell You What I Knocked Up For My Christmas-eve Dinner In The Library Cart. I Knocked Up A Beefsteak-pudding For One, With Two Kidneys, A Dozen Oysters, And A Couple Of Mushrooms Thrown In. It's A Pudding To Put A Man In Good Humour With Everything, Except The Two Bottom Buttons Of His Waistcoat.

A Word In Earnest Is As Good As A Speech.

How Could You Give Me Life, And Take From Me All The Inappreciable Things That Raise It From The State Of Conscious Death? Where Are The Graces Of My Soul? Where Are The Sentiments Of My Heart? What Have You Done, Oh, Father, What Have You Done With The Garden That Should Have Bloomed Once, In This Great Wilderness Here? Said Louisa As She Touched Her Heart.

The Ocean Asks For Nothing But Those Who Stand By Her Shores Gradually Attune Themselves To Her Rhythm.

I Only Ask To Be Free. The Butterflies Are Free. Mankind Will Surely Not Deny To Harold Skimpole What It Concedes To The Butterflies.