Miranda in Miranda's sight is old, gray and dirty; Twenty-nine she was last night; This morning she is thirty.

Some one invented the telephone, And interrupted a nation's slumbers, Ringing wrong but similar numbers.

The bed is a bundle of paradoxes: we go to it with reluctance, yet we quit it with regret; we make up our minds every night to leave it early, but we make up our bodies every morning to keep it late.

There once was an umpire whose vision Was cause for abuse and derision He remarked in surprise, 'Why pick on my eyes? It's my heart that dictates my decision.'

The turtle lives 'twixt plated decks Which practically conceal its sex I think it clever of the turtle In such a fix to be so fertile.

Every Englishman is convinced of one thing, viz.: That to be an Englishman is to belong to the most exclusive club there is.

Why did the Lord give use so much quickness unless it was to avoid responsibility?