If You Fail To Plan,

Death Is A Fisherman, The World We See His Fish-pond Is, And We The Fishes Be; His Net Some General Sickness; Howe'er He Is Not So Kind As Other Fishers Be; For If They Take One Of The Smaller Fry, They Throw Him In Again, He Shall Not Die: But Death Is Sure To Kill All He Can Get, And All Is Fish With Him That Comes To Net.

Did Not Strong Connections Draw Me Elsewhere, I Believe Scotland Would Be The Country I Would Choose To End My Days In.

He Is Ill Clothed That Is Bare Of Virtue.

A Wolf Eats Sheep But Now And Then, Ten Thousands Are Devour'd By Men.

What Vast Additions To The Conveniences And Comforts Of Living Might Mankind Have Acquired, If The Money Spent In Wars Had Been Employed In Works Of Public Utility; What An Extension Of Agriculture Even To The Tops Of Our Mountains; What Rivers Rendered Navigable, Or Joined By Canals; What Bridges, Aqueducts, New Roads, And Other Public Works, Edifices, And Improvements Might Not Have Been Obtained By Spending Those Millions In Doing Good, Which In The Last War Have Been Spent In Doing Mischief.