The Flowers Are Full Of Honey, But

The Connoisseur Of Art Must Be Able To Appreciate What Is Simply Beautiful, But The Common Run Of People Is Satisfied With Ornament.

Doesn't Surprise Me That Christ Our Lord Preferred To Live With Whores And Sinners, Seeing I Go In For That Myself.

Democracy Does Not Race, It Reaches The Finish Slowly But Surely.

In Politics People Throw Themselves, As On A Sickbed, From One Side To The Other In The Belief They Will Lie More Comfortably.

With Little Wit And Ease To Suit Them, They Whirl In Narrow Circling Trails, Like Kittens Playing With Their Tails.