That Of All The Floures

Time And Tide Wait For No Man.

The Life So Brief, The Art So Long In The Learning, The Attempt So Hard, The Conquest So Sharp, The Fearful Joy That Ever Slips Away So Quickly - By All This I Mean Love, Which So Sorely Astounds My Feeling With Its Wondrous Operation, That When I Think Upon It I Scarce Know Whether I Wake Or Sleep.

Mordre Wol Out, That Se We Day By Day.

The Devil Can Only Destroy Those Who Are Already On Their Way To Damnation.

Nowhere So Busy A Man As He There Was And Yet He Seemed Busier Than He Was.