Measures, Not Men, Have Always Been My

Blest Be Those Feasts, With Simple Plenty Crowned, Where All The Ruddy Family Around Laugh At The Jests Or Pranks That Never Fail Or Sigh With Pity At Some Mournful Tale.

The Heart Of Every Man Lies Open To The Shafts Of Correction If The Archer Can Take Proper Aim.

In Proportion As Society Refines, New Books Must Ever Become More Necessary.

I Do Not Love A Man Who Is Zealous For Nothing.

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