One Can Never Outlive One's Vanity.

The Pious Farmer, Who Ne'er Misses Pray'rs, With Patience Suffers Unexpected Rain; He Blesses Heav'n For What Its Bounty Spares, And Sees, Resign'd, A Crop Of Blighted Grain. But, Spite Of Sermons, Farmers Would Blaspheme, If A Star Fell To Set Their Thatch On Flame.

I Have All My Life Been On My Guard Against The Information Conveyed By The Sense Of Hearing -- It Being One Of My Earliest Observations, The Universal Inclination Of Humankind Is To Be Led By The Ears, And I Am Sometimes Apt To Imagine That They Are Given To Men As They Are To Pitchers, Purposely That They May Be Carried About By Them.

I Am In Perfect Health, And Hear It Said I Look Better Than Ever I Did In My Life, Which Is One Of Those Lies One Is Always Glad To Hear.

Strictly Speaking, There Is But One Real Evil: I Mean Acute Pain. All Other Complaints Are So Considerably Diminished By Time That It Is Plain The Grief Is Owing To Our Passion, Since The Sensation Of It Vanishes When That Is Over.

My Health Is So Often Impaired That I Begin To Be As Weary Of It As Mending Old Lace; When It Is Patched In One Place, It Breaks Out In Another.