The Abuse Of Terms Has At All

People Talk As If The Act Of Death Made A Complete Change In The Nature, As Well As In The Condition Of Man. Death Is The Vehicle To Another State Of Being, But Possesses No Power To Qualify Us For That State. In Conveying Us To A New World It Does Not Give Us A New Heart.

If A Young Lady Has That Discretion And Modesty Without Which All Knowledge Is Little Worth, She Will Never Make An Ostentatious Parade Of It, Because She Will Rather Be Intent On Acquiring More Than On Displaying What She Has.

The Uncandid Censurer Always Picks Out The Worst Man Of A Class, And Then Confidently Produces Him As Being A Fair Specimen Of It.

Since Trifles Make The Sum Of Human Things, And Half Our Misery From Our Foibles Springs.

Pleasure Is By Much The Most Laborious Trade I Know, Especially For Those Who Have Not A Vocation To It.