I Never Lost A Little

But I, When I Undress Me Each Night, Upon My Knees Will Ask The Lord To Bless Me With Apple-pie And Cheese.

No Book Can Be Appreciated Until It Has Been Slept With And Dreamed Over.

There Is A Glorious Candor In An Honest Quart Of Wine, A Certain Inspitation Which I Cannot Well Define.

What Smells So? Has Somebody Been Burning A Rag, Or Is There A Dead Mule In The Back Yard? No, The Man Is Smoking A Five-cent Cigar.

All Good And True Book-lovers Practice The Pleasing And Improving Avocation Of Reading In Bed ... No Book Can Be Appreciated Until It Has Been Slept With And Dreamed Over.