Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.
Sabbath Morn. When drowsiness will not take flight, how loud the church bell calls.
They who will not be led must be driven.
Silks an' fine feathers are wiles of the devil, boy. Never argy wi' a wummun about clo'os. When they're most wrong, they're right.
The broken six-pence plights the troth.
One half to each brings joy to both.
True love is never selfish.
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