The busy have no time for tears.
Armenian is the language to speak with God.
O Gold! I still prefer thee unto paper, which makes bank credit like a bark of vapour.
Well, well, the world must turn upon its axis, And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails, And live and die, make love and pay our taxes, And as the veering winds shift, shift our sails.
Who falls from all he knows of bliss, Cares little into what abyss.
Oh, for a forty-parson power to chant Thy praise, Hypocrisy! Oh, for a hymn Loud as the virtues thou dost loudly vaunt, Not practise!