Fine Clothes Are Good Only

Cunning Differs From Wisdom As Twilight From Open Day.

The Happiest Part Of A Man's Life Is What He Passes Lying Awake In Bed In The Morning.

Sorrow Is Properly That State Of The Mind In Which Our Desires Are Fixed Upon The Past Without Looking Forward To The Future.

As Any Custom Is Disused, The Words That Expressed It Must Perish With It; As Any Opinion Grows Popular, It Will Innovate Speech In The Same Proportion As It Alters Practice.

That The Happiness Of Man May Still Remain Imperfect, As Wants In This Place Are Easily Supplied, New Wants Likewise Are Easily Created; Every Man, In Surveying The Shops Of London, Sees Numberless Instruments And Conveniencies, Of Which, While He Did Not Know Them, He Never Felt The Need; And Yet, When Use Has Made Them Familiar, Wonders How Life Could Be Supported Without Them. Thus It Comes To Pass, That Our Desires Always Increase With Our Possessions; The Knowledge That Something Remains Yet Unenjoyed, Impairs Our Enjoyment Of The Good Before Us.