Much May Be Made Of A Scotchman,

Peevishness May Be Considered The Canker Of Life, That Destroys Its Vigor And Checks Its Improvement; That Creeps On With Hourly Depredations, And Taints And Vitiates What It Cannot Consume.

He Left The Name At Which The World Grew Pale, To Point A Moral, Or Adorn A Tale.

Those Who Do Not Feel Pain Seldom Think That It Is Felt.

Slavery Is Now Nowhere More Patiently Endured, Than In Countries Once Inhabited By The Zealots Of Liberty.

The Love Of Life Is Necessary To The Vigorous Prosecution Of Any Undertaking