Shakespeare Never Had More Than

The Main Of Life Is Composed Of Small Incidents And Petty Occurrences; Of Wishes For Objects Not Remote, And Grief For Disappointments Of No Fatal Consequence.

Of The Present State, Whatever It Be, We Feel And Are Forced To Confess The Misery; Yet When The Same State Is Again At A Distance, Imagination Paints It As Desirable.

Trust As Little As You Can To Report, And Examine All You Can By Your Own Senses.

Whatever Professes To Benefit By Pleasing Must Please At Once. The Pleasures Of The Mind Imply Something Sudden And Unexpected; That Which Elevates Must Always Surprise.

The Business Of Life Is To Go Forward.