As Ten Millions Of Circles

Here Lies David Garrick, Describe Me Who Can, An Abridgment Of All That Was Pleasant In Man.

Books Are Necessary To Correct The Vices Of The Polite; But Those Vices Are Ever Changing, And The Antidote Should Be Changed Accordingly Should Still Be New.

Life At The Greatest And Best Is But A Froward Child, That Must Be Humored And Coaxed A Little Till It Falls Asleep, And Then All The Care Is Over.

Vain, Very Vain, My Weary Search To Find That Bliss Which Only Centers In The Mind.

A Silent Address Is The Genuine Eloquence Of Sincerity.