I would be loath to speak ill of any person who I do not know deserves >>
Prepare for death, if here at night you roam, and sign your will befor >>
I never desire to converse with a man who has written more than he has >>
Cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay. >>
Man partly is and wholly hopes to be. >>
In the factory we make cosmetics; in the store we sell hope. >>
Nothing is more hopeless than a scheme of merriment.