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Which I wish to remark,- And my language is plain,-That for ways that are dark And for tricks that are vain,The heathen Chinee is peculiar.
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Well, no offense:Thar ain't no senseIn gittin' riled.
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Never a tear bedims the eye that time and patience will not dry.
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Never a lip is curved with pain that can't be kissed into smiles again.
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Howbeit, though no scholar, I am not one of those who misuse the English speech, and, being foolishly led by the hasty custom of scriveners and printers to write the letters 'T' and 'H' joined together, which resembleth a 'Y,' do incontinently jump to the conclusion the THE is pronounced 'Ye,'-the like of which I never heard in all England.
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We are ruined by Chinese cheap labor.
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We begin to die as soon as we are born, and the end is linked to the beginning.
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Each lost day has its patron saint!
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Ah Sin was his name.
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A bird in hand is a certainty. But a bird in the bush may sing.
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But, when the goddess' work is done,The woman's still remains.
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And then, for an old man like me, it's not exactly right,This kind o' playing soldier with no enemy in sight.
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Man has the possibility of existence after death. But possibility is one thing and the realization of the possibility is quite a different thing.
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With the smile that was childlike and bland.
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Don't be too quickTo break bad habits: better stick,Like the Mission folk, to your arsenic.
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Virtue always meets reward,But quicker when it wears a sword;
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The only sure thing about luck is that it will change.
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There is peace in the swamp, though the quiet is Death,
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And he says that the mountains are fairerFor once being held in your thought;
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Later, when we were forced to accept the fact that finding gold was really the primary object of a gold-mining company, we still remained there