I Do Not Care To

Nothing Is Difficult, When Gain And Honour Unite Their Influence.

Spring Is The Season Of Gaiety, And Winter Of Terror; In Spring The Heart Of Tranquility Dances To The Melody Of The Groves, And The Eye Of Benevolence Sparkles At The Sight Of Happiness And Plenty: In Winter, Compassion Melts At Universal Calamity, And The Tear Of Softness Starts At The Wailing Of Hunger And The Cries Of The Creation In Distress

He Who Aspires To Be A Serious Wine Drinker Must Drink Claret.

Invention Is Almost The Only Literary Labour Which Blindness Cannot Obstruct.

The Business Of Life Summons Us Away From Useless Grief, And Calls Us To The Exercise Of Those Virtues Of Which We Are Lamenting Our Deprivation.