I Distress You; I Draw

Death Is A Mighty, Universal Truth.

Yet, I Had Nothing Else To Tell; Unless, Indeed, I Were To Confess (which Might Be Of Less Moment Still), That No One Can Ever Believe This Narrative, In The Reading, More Than I Believed It In The Writing.

Along The Paris Streets, The Death-carts Rumble, Hollow And Harsh. Six Tumbrils Carry The Day's Wine To La Guillotine.

Battledore And Shuttlecock's A Wery Good Game, Vhen You An't The Shuttlecock And Two Lawyers The Battledores, In Which Case It Gets Too Exciting To Be Pleasant.

If I Could Not Walk Far And Fast, I Think I Should Just Explode And Perish.