Silence Gives Consent.

We Are All Sure Of Two Things, At Least; We Shall Suffer And We Shall All Die.

Popular Glory Is A Perfect Coquette; Her Lovers Must Toil, Feel Every Inquietude, Indulge Every Caprice, And Perhaps At Last Be Jilted Into The Bargain. True Glory, On The Other Hand, Resembles A Woman Of Sense; Her Admirers Must Play No Tricks. They Feel No Great Anxiety, For They Are Sure In The End Of Being Rewarded In Proportion To Their Merit.

The First Time I Read An Excellent Book, It Is To Me Just As If I Had Gained A New Friend. When I Read A Book Over I Have Perused Before, It Resembles The Meeting With An Old One.

I Hate The French Because They Are All Slaves And Wear Wooden Shoes.

The Genteel Thing Is The Genteel Thing Any Time, If As Be That A Gentleman Bees In A Concatenation Accordingly.