Maxioms by Charles Dickens
Jobling, there are chords in the human mind.
Jobling, there are chords in the human mind.
There is a wisdom of the head, and... a wisdom of the heart.
There is a wisdom of the head, and... a wisdom of the heart.
Which fiddle-strings is weakness to expredge my nerves this night!
Which fiddle-strings is weakness to expredge my nerves this night!
Oh the nerves, the nerves; the mysteries of this machine called man! Oh the little that unhinges it, poor creatures read more
Oh the nerves, the nerves; the mysteries of this machine called man! Oh the little that unhinges it, poor creatures that we are!
Every baby born into the world is a finer one than the last
Every baby born into the world is a finer one than the last
