The Way Of The World Is To

The Perpetual Work Of Your Life Is But To Lay The Foundation Of Death.

I Enjoy Books As Misers Enjoy Treasures, Because I Know I Can Enjoy Them Whenever I Please.

My Library Is My Kingdom, And Here I Try To Make My Rule Absolute-shutting Off This Single Nook From Wife, Daughter And Society. Elsewhere I Have Only A Verbal Authority, And Vague. Unhappy Is The Man, In My Opinion, Who Has No Spot At Home Where He Can Be At Home To Himself-to Court Himself And Hide Away.

Take Care That Old Age Does Not Wrinkle Your Spirit Even More Than Your Face.

Now, Since Everything Else Is Furnished With The Exact Amount Of Needle And Thread Required To Maintain Its Being, It Is In Truth Incredible That We Alone Should Be Brought Into The World In A Defective And Indigent State, In A State Such That We Cannot Maintain Ourselves Without External Aid.