Virtue Were A Kind Of Misery If

Truth And Fidelity Are The Pillars Of The Temple Of The World; When These Are Broken, The Fabric Falls, And Crushes All To Pieces.

A Combed Writing Will Cost Both Sweat And The Rubbing Of The Brain. And Combed I Wish It, Not Frizzled Or Curled.

He Who Would Be Singular In His Apparel Had Need Have Something Superlative To Balance That Affectation.

Surely, If We Considered Detraction To Be Bred Of Envy, Nested Only In Deficient Minds, We Should Find That The Applauding Of Virtue Would Win Us Far More Honor Than The Seeking Slyly To Disparage It. That Would Show We Loved What We Commended, While This Tells The World We Grudge At What We Want In Ourselves.

When Two Friends Part They Should Lock Up One Another's Secrets, And Interchange Their Keys.