The Mouth Can Be Better Engaged Than

People Trample Over Flowers, Yet Only To Embrace A Cactus.

You Cannot Eat Your Cake And Have It.

It Seems To Me You Do Not Care What Banality A Man Expresses So Long As He Expresses It In Irish.

Her Name Sprang To My Lips At Moments In Strange Prayers And Praises Which I Myself Did Not Understand. My Eyes Were Often Full Of Tears (i Could Not Tell Why) And At Times A Flood From My Heart Seemed To Pour Itself Out Into My Bosom. I Thought Little Of The Future. I Did Not Know Whether I Would Ever Speak To Her Or Not Or, If I Spoke To Her, How I Could Tell Her Of My Confused Adoration.

What Did It Avail To Pray When He Knew His Soul Lusted After Its Own Destruction?