The King Who Makes War

A Man With A Good Coat Upon His Back Meets With A Better Reception Than He Who Has A Bad One.

Hope Itself Is A Species Of Happiness, And, Perhaps, The Chief Happiness Which This World Affords; But, Like All Other Pleasures Immoderately Enjoyed, The Excesses Of Hope Must Be Expiated By Pain.

If The Man Who Turnips Cries, Cry Not When His Father Dies, 'tis Proof That He Had Rather Have A Turnip Than His Father.

There Is No Idleness, By Which We Are So Easily Seduced, As That Which Dignifies Itself By The Appearance Of Business, And By Making The Loiterer Imagine That He Has Something To Do Which Must Not Be Neglected, Keeps Him In Perpetual Agitation, And Hurries Him Rapidly From Place To Place.

That Man Is Never Happy For The Present Is So True, That All His Relief From Unhappiness Is Only Forgetting Himself For A Little While. Life Is A Progress From Want To Want, Not From Enjoyment To Enjoyment.