TWAIN'S LETTERS V1 1835-1866
Reading edition
A mighty national menace to sham All talk and no cider Condition my room is always in when you are not around Deprived of the soothing consolation of swearing Frankness is a jewel; only the young can afford it Genius defies the laws of perspective Hope deferred maketh the heart sick I never greatly envied anybody but the dead In the long analysis of the ages it is the truth that counts Just about enough cats to go round Moral bulwark reared against hypocrisy and superstition The coveted estate of silence, time's only absolute gift We went outside to keep from getting wet What a pleasure there is in revenge! When in doubt, tell the truth When it is my turn, I don't