As the dawn comes up like thunder.

A woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke.

I have no gift of words, but I speak the truth.

She is intensely human, and lives to look upon life.

There is sorrow enough in the natural way From men and woman to fill our day; But when we are certain of sorrow in store, Why do we always arrange for more? Brothers & Sisters, I bid you beware Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

For undemocratic reasons and for motives not of State, they arrive at their conclusions, largely inarticulate. Being void of self-expression they confide their views to none; but sometimes in a smoking room, one learns why things were done.

There's no jealousy in the grave.