... The Best Pilots Have Need Of

Money Never Made Any Man Rich, But His Mind. He That Can Order Himself To The Law Of Nature, Is Not Only Without The Sense, But The Fear Of Poverty.

Ods Me I Marle What Pleasure Or Felicity They Have In Taking Their Roguish Tobacco. It Is Good For Nothing But To Choke A Man, And Fill Him Full Of Smoke And Embers.

I Know No Disease Of The Soul But Ignorance, A Pernicious Evil, The Darkener Of Man's Life, The Disturber Of His Reason, And Common Confounder Of Truth.

Thy Praise Or Dispraise Is To Me Alike; One Doth Not Stroke Me, Nor The Other Strike.

Custom Is The Most Certain Mistress Of Language, As The Public Stamp Makes The Current Money.