The Conduct Of Our Lives Is The

No Wind Favors He Who Has No Destined Port.

What Harm Cause Not Those Huge Draughts Or Pictures Which Wanton Youth With Chalk Or Coals Draw In Each Passage, Wall Or Stairs Of Our Great Houses, Whence A Cruel Contempt Of Our Natural Store Is Bred In Them?

Since We Cannot Attain Unto It, Let Us Revenge Ourselves By Railing At It; And Yet It Is Not Absolutely Railing Against Anything, To Proclaim Its Defects, Because They Are In All Things To Be Found, How Beautiful Or How Much To Be Coveted Soever.

Each Man Calls Barbarism Whatever Is Not His Own Practice; For Indeed It Seems We Have No Other Test Of Truth And Reason Than The Example And Pattern Of The Opinions And Customs Of The Country We Live In

Off I Go, Rummaging About In Books For Sayings Which Please Me.