Dispatch Is The Soul Of Business.

Physical Ills Are The Taxes Laid Upon This Wretched Life; Some Are Taxed Higher, And Some Lower, But All Pay Something.

Compliments Of Congratulation Are Always Kindly Taken, And Cost Nothing But Pen, Ink And Paper. I Consider Them As Draughts Upon Good Breeding, Where The Exchange Is Always Greatly In Favor Of The Drawer.

Knowledge Is A Comfortable And Necessary Retreat And Shelter For Us In An Advanced Age; And If We Do Not Plant It While Young, It Will Give Us No Shade When We Grow Old.

I Always Put These Pert Jackanapeses Out Of Countenance By Looking Extremely Grave When They Expect That I Should Laugh At Their Pleasantries; And By Saying Well, And So?--as If They Had Not Done, And That The Sting Were Still To Come. This Disconcerts Them, As They Have No Resources In Themselves, And Have But One Set Of Jokes To Live Upon.

The Law Before Us, My Lords, Seems To Be The Effect Of That Practice Of Which It Is Intended Likewise To Be The Cause, And To Be Dictated By The Liquor Of Which It So Effectually Promotes The Use; For Surely It Never Before Was Conceived By Any Man Entrusted With The Administration Of Public Affairs, To Raise Taxes By The Destruction Of The People.