God help the teacher, if a man of sensibility and genius, when a booby father presents him with his booby son, and insists on lighting up the rays of science in a fellow's head whose skull is impervious and inaccessible by any other way than a positive fracture with a cudgel.

There is no such uncertainty as a sure thing.

Painters and poets have liberty to lie.

Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white-then melts for ever . . .

My heart is sair-I dare na tell, My heart is sair for Somebody.

Suspense is worst than disappointment.

They never sought in vain that sought the Lord alright!