The World Is But A Perennial Movement.

Have You Known How To Take Rest? You Have Done More Than He Who Hath Taken Empires And Cities.

Nothing Prints More Lively In Our Minds Than Something We Wish To Forget.

We Commend A Horse For His Strength, And Sureness Of Foot, And Not For His Rich Caparisons; A Greyhound For His Share Of Heels, Not For His Fine Collar; A Hawk For Her Wing, Not For Her Jesses And Bells. Why, In Like Manner, Do We Not Value A Man For What Is Properly His Own? He Has A Great Train, A Beautiful Palace, So Much Credit, So Many Thousand Pounds A Year, And All These Are About Him, But Not In Him.

What A Wonderful Thing It Is That Drop Of Seed, From Which We Are Produced, Bears In Itself The Impressions, Not Only Of The Bodily Shape, But Of The Thoughts And Inclinations Of Our Fathers!

There Is No Man So Good, Who, Were He To Submit All His Thoughts And Actions To The Laws, Would Not Deserve Hanging Ten Times In His Life.