There Is No Kind Of

There Is Nothing Which Has Yet Been Contrived By Man, By Which So Much Happiness Is Produced As By A Good Tavern.

The Finest Landscape In The World Is Improved By A Good Inn In The Foreground.

Much Mischief Is Done In The World With Very Little Interest Or Design.

Solitude Is Dangerous To Reason, Without Being Favourable To Virtue. Remember That The Solitary Mortal Is Certainly Luxurious, Probably Superstitious, And Possibly Mad.

About Things On Which The Public Thinks Long It Commonly Attains To Think Right.