Words Are But The Signs Of Ideas.

No Wonder, Sir, That He Is Vain; A Man Who Is Perpetually Flattered In Every Mode That Can Be Conceived. So Many Bellows Have Blown The Fire, That One Wonders He Is Not By This Time Become A Cinder.

Guilt Has Always Its Horrors And Solicitudes; And, To Make It Yet More Shameful And Detestable, It Is Doomed Often To Stand In Awe Of Those To Whom Nothing Could Give Influence Or Weight But Their Power Of Betraying.

Allegories Drawn To Great Length Will Always Break.

Wine Gives Great Pleasure, And Every Pleasure Is Of Itself A Good. And A Man Should Cultivate His Mind So As To Have That Confidence And Readiness Without Wine, Which Wine Gives.

Promise, Large Promise, Is The Soul Of An Advertisement.