O men with sisters dear, O men with mothers and wives, It is not linen you 're wearing out, But human creatures' lives!

Some minds improve by travel, others, rather, resemble copper wire, or brass, which get the narrower by going farther.

Apothegms form a short cut to much knowledge.

We watch'd her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro.

Frost is the greatest artist in our clime - he paints in nature and describes in rime.

There is a silence where hath been no sound, There is a silence where no sound may be,- In the cold grave, under the deep, deep sea, Or in the wide desert where no life is found.

The biggest bore of all is he who is overflowing with congratulations