'E's all'ot sand an' ginger when alive, An''e's generally shammin' when'e's dead.

I am the Cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.

But till we are built like angels, with hammer and chisel and pen, we will work for ourself and a woman, forever and ever, Amen.

Meddling with another man's folly is always thankless work.

I've just read that I am dead. Don't forget to delete me from your list of subscribers.

If a man brings a good mind to what he reads he may become, as it were, the spiritual descendant to some extent of great men, and this link, this spiritual hereditary tie, may help to just kick the beam in the right direction at a vital crisis; or may keep him from drifting through the long slack times when, so to speak, we are only fielding and no balls are coming our way.

If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!