God Only, Who Made Us Rich, Can

The Large White Owl That With Eye Is Blind, That Hath Sate For Years In The Old Tree Hollow, Is Carried Away In A Gust Of Wind.

Yes, I Answered You Last Night; No, This Morning, Sir, I Say: Colors Seen By Candle-light Will Not Look The Same By Day.

God's Gifts Put Man's Best Dreams To Shame.

Don't Get Me Wrong-painting's All Right. But Now That We Have Photography, What's The Point?

Many A Crown Covers Bald Foreheads.