Puns are the droppings of soaring wits.

Progress is the stride of God.

What love commences can be finished by God alone.

Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.

God has set his intentions in the flowers, in the dawn, in the spring, it is his will that we should love.

In love, such a word, whispered, is a mysterious kiss of the soul to the soul.

To rescue from oblivion even a fragment of a language which men have used and which is in danger of being lost -that is to say, one of the elements, whether good or bad, which have shaped and complicated civilization -is to extend the scope of social observation and to serve civilization.