Ask Me No Questions, And I'll Tell

Remote, Unfriended, Melancholy, Slow, Or By The Lazy Scheld Or Wandering Po.

We Seldom Speak Of The Virtue Which We Have, But Much Oftener Of That Which We Lack.

Truth From His Lips Prevailed With Double Sway, And Fools, Who Came To Scoff, Remained To Pray.

The Soul May Be Compared To A Field Of Battle, Where The Armies Are Ready Every Moment To Encounter. Not A Single Vice But Has A More Powerful Opponent, And Not One Virtue But May Be Overborne By A Combination Of Vices.

Whatever Mitigates The Woes, Or Increases The Happiness Of Others, Is A Just Criterion Of Goodness; And Whatever Injures Society At Large, Or Any Individual In It, Is A Criterion Of Iniquity.