The Man Must Have A Rare Recipe

I Am, In Plainer Words, A Bundle Of Prejudices - Made Up Of Likings And Dislikings.

You Do Not Play Then At Whist, Sir? Alas, What A Sad Old Age You Are Preparing For Yourself!

Nothing Puzzles Me More Than Time And Space; And Yet Nothing Troubles Me Less, As I Never Think About Them.

The Truant Fancy Was A Wanderer Ever.

We Gain Nothing By Being With Such As Ourselves. We Encourage One Another In Mediocrity. I Am Always Longing To Be With Men More Excellent Than Myself.