A Wretched Woman Is More Unfortunate Than

In Every Cradle Decked With Rosy Wreath Lurk Germs Of Death.

There Is No Rapture In The Love Which Is Prompted By Esteem; Such Affection Is Lasting, Not Passionate.

Puns Are The Droppings Of Soaring Wits.

To Err Is Human. To Loaf Is Parisian.

Nothing Can Be Sadder Or More Profound Than To See A Thousand Things For The First And Last Time.