Puns Are The Droppings Of Soaring Wits.

It Is The Peculiarity Of Grief To Bring Out The Childish Side Of Man.

It Is Often Necessary To Know How To Obey A Woman In Order Sometimes To Have The Right To Command Her.

A Day Will Come When A Cannon Will Be Exhibited In Museums, Just As Instruments Of Torture Are Now, And The People Will Be Astonished That Such A Thing Could Have Been.

Not Ill? No Truly, I Am Young, Healthful, And Strong; The Blood Flows Freely In My Veins; My Limbs Obey My Will; I Am Robust In Mind And Body, Constituted For A Long Life. Yes, All This Is True; And Yet, Nevertheless, I Have An Illness, A Fatal Illness,-an Illness Given By The Hand Of Man!

Out Milky Way Is The Dwelling; The Nebulae Are The City.