Never Sign A Valentine With Your Own

Skewered Through And Through With Office-pens, And Bound Hand And Foot With Red Tape.

Old Time, That Greatest And Longest Established Spinner Of All!... His Factory Is A Secret Place, His Work Is Noiseless, And His Hands Are Mutes.

I Looked At The Stars, And Considered How Awful It Would Be For A Man To Turn His Face Up To Them As He Froze To Death, And See No Help Or Pity In All The Glittering Multitude.

For Nature Gives To Every Time And Season Some Beauties Of Its Own; And From Morning To Night, As From The Cradle To The Grave, It Is But A Succession Of Changes So Gentle And Easy That We Can Scarcely Mark Their Progress.

Renunciation Remains Sorrow, Though A Sorrow Borne Willingly.