By Every Remove I Only Drag A

Thus 'tis With All; Their Chief And Constant Care Is To Seem Everything But What They Are.

Amid Thy Desert-walks The Lapwing Flies, And Tires Their Echoes With Unvaried Cries.

The More Various Our Artificial Necessities, The Wider Is Our Circle Of Pleasure; For All Pleasure Consists In Obviating Necessities As They Rise; Luxury, Therefore, As It Increases Our Wants, Increases Our Capacity For Happiness

Man Little Knows What Calamities Are Beyond His Patience To Bear Till He Tries Them; As In Ascending The Heights Of Ambition, Which Look Bright From Below, Every Step We Rise Shows Us Some New And Gloomy Prospect Of Hidden Disappointment; So In Our Descent From The Summits Of Pleasure, Though The Vale Of Misery Below May Appear, At First, Dark And Gloomy, Yet The Busy Mind, Still Attentive To Its Own Amusement, Finds, As We Descend, Something To Flatter And To Please. Still As We Approach, The Darkest Objects Appear To Brighten, And The Mortal Eye Becomes Adapted To Its Gloomy Situation.

Our Chief Comforts Often Produce Our Greatest Anxieties, And The Increase In Our Possessions Is But An Inlet To New Disquietudes.