No Man But A Blockhead Ever Wrote

Sorrow Is A Kind Of Rust Of The Soul, Which Every New Idea Contributes In Its Passage To Scour Away. It Is The Putrefaction Of Stagnant Life, And Is Remedied By Exercise And Motion.

The Round Of A Passionate Man's Life Is In Contracting Debts In His Passion, Which His Virtue Obliges Him To Pay. He Spends His Time In Outrage And Acknowledgment, Injury And Reparation.

No Money Is Better Spent Than What Is Laid Out For Domestic Satisfaction. A Man Is Pleased That His Wife Is Dressed As Well As Other People, And The Wife Is Pleased That She Is Dressed.

We Are Not Here To Sell A Parcel Of Boilers And Vats, But The Potentiality Of Growing Rich Beyond The Dreams Of Avarice.

Fear Naturally Quickens The Flight Of Guilt.