Tomorrow Is No Man's Gift.

It's The People Who Try To Be Clever Who Never Are; The People Who Are Clever Never Think Of Trying To Be.

Tomorrow Is No Man's Gift.

There Is No Influence Like The Influence Of Habit.

It Is Not The Broken Heart That Kills, But Broken Pride, Monseigneur.

Love Knows Not Distance; It Hath No Continent; Its Eyes Are For The Stars, Its Feet For The Swords; It Continueth, Though An Army Lay Waste The Pasture; It Comforteth When There Are No Medicines; It Hath The Relish Of Manna; And By It Do Men Live In The Desert.