To Fight Aloud Is Very

Will You Tell Me My Fault, Frankly As To Yourself, For I Had Rather Wince, Than Die. Men Do Not Call The Surgeon To Commend The Bone, But To Set It, Sir.

Life Is The Finest Secret. So Long As That Remains, We Must All Whisper.

Drunkards Of Summer Are Quite As Frequent As Drunkards Of Wine.

Wild Nights – Wild Nights! Were I With Thee Wild Nights Should Be Our Luxury! Futile – The Winds – To A Heart In Port – Done With The Compass – Done With The Chart! Rowing In Eden – Ah, The Sea! Might I Moor – Tonight – In Thee!

My Friends Are My Estate. Forgive Me Then The Avarice To Hoard Them!