Poor Paddy of all Christian men I thinkOn basest food pours down the vilest drink.

Alas! in winter, dead and dark,Where can poor Robin go?

I always get back to the question, is it really necessary that men should consume so much of their bodily and mental energies in the machinery of civilized life? The world seems to me to do much of its toil for that which is not in any sense bread. Again, does not the latent feeling that much of their striving is to no purpose tend to infuse large quantities of sham into men's work?''

A writer must teach himself that the basest of all things is to be afraid.

Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a hunting For fear of little men

It never rains, but it pours