We All Have Some Taste Or Other,

The Man Must Have A Rare Recipe For Melancholy, Who Can Be Dull In Fleet Street.

May Be The Truth Is, That One Pipe Is Wholesome, Two Pipes Toothsome, Three Pipes Noisome, Four Pipes Fulsome, Five Pipes Quarrelsome; And That's The Some On't.

My Theory Is To Enjoy Life, But My Practice Is Against It.

Tis The Privilege Of Friendship To Talk Nonsense, And To Have Nonsense Respected.

I Have Sat Through An Italian Opera, Til, For Sheer Pain, And Inexplicable Anguish, I Have Rushed Out Into The Noisiest Places Of The Crowded Street, To Solace Myself With Sounds Which I Was Not Obliged To Follow And Get Rid Of The Distracting Torment Of Endless, Fruitless, Barren Attention!