It Takes All Sorts (to

Oh Senor" Said The Niece. "your Grace Should Send Them To Be Burned (books), Just Like All The Rest, Because It's Very Likely That My Dear Uncle, Having Been Cured Of The Chivalric Disease, Will Read These And Want To Become A Shepherd And Wander Through The Woods And Meadows Singing And Playing And, What Would Be Even Worse, Become A Poet, And That, They Say, Is An Incurable And Contagious Disease.

Man Appoints, And God Disappoints.

Take Away The Cause, And The Effect Ceases.

'tis The Maddest Trick A Man Can Ever Play In His Whole Life, To Let His Breath Sneak Out Of His Body Without Any More Ado, And Without So Much As A Rap O'er The Pate, Or A Kick Of The Guts; To Go Out Like The Snuff Of A Farthing Candle, And Die Merely Of The Mulligrubs, Or The Sullens.

Since Don Quixote De La Mancha Is A Crazy Fool And A Madman, And Since Sancho Panza, His Squire, Knows It, Yet, For All That, Serves And Follows Him, And Hangs On These Empty Promises Of His, There Can Be No Doubt That He Is More Of A Madman And A Fool Than His Master.