Since it is probable that any book flying a bullet in its title is…

The sun, heavy-eyed from lack of sleep, owing to the system of a staggered summer time, stumbled into the heavens, and with a heavy sigh set about its duties.

"Vot", asked George I courteously, "is the difference between a public nuisance and a public convenience?"

This book for men alone is meant, Book-worms, or bibliophiles anent, Of solid mind, of serious bent, On curious, hidden books intent, On odd research and learning.

No book exists, however bad, From which some good may not be had.

When I survey the bright Celestial sphere; So rich with jewels hung, that Night Doth like an Ethiop bride appear:My soul her wings doth spread And heavenward flies, Th' Almighty's mysteries to read

For him delicious flavors dwell In books as in old Muscatel.