THE INK STAIN

All that a name is to a street--itshonor, its spouseCame not in single spies, but inbattalionsDistrust first impulseFelix culpaHappy men don't need companyHard that one can not live one's lifeover twiceHe always loved to pass for beingoverwhelmed with workI don't call that fishingIf trouble awaits us, hope will  stealus a happy hour or twoLends--I should say givesMen forget soonerNatural only when alone, and talk wellonly to themselvesObstacles are the salt of all our joysOne doesn't offer apologies to a man inhis wrathPeople meeting to "have it out" usuallysay nothing at firstSilence, alas! is not the reproof ofkings aloneSkilful actor, who apes all theemotions while feeling noneSorrows shrink into insignificance asthe horizon broadensSurprise goes for so much in what weadmireThe very smell of books is improvingThe looks of the young are always fullof the futureThere are some blunders that are lucky;but you can't tellTo be your own guide doubles yourpleasureYou a law student, while our farmersare in want of handsYou must always first get the tobaccoto burn evenlyYou ask Life for certainties, as if shehad any to give you