No Man Ever Repented Of Being A

The Wretch Who Digs The Mine For Bread, Or Ploughs, That Others May Be Fed, Feels Less Fatigued Than That Decreed To Him Who Cannot Think Or Read.

The Ingenuity Of Self-deception Is Inexhaustible.

To Those Who Know Thee Not, No Words Can Paint! And Those Who Know Thee, Know All Words Are Faint!

How Much It Is To Be Regretted, That The British Ladies Should Ever Sit Down Contented To Polish, When They Are Able To Reform; To Entertain, When They Might Instruct; And To Dazzle For An Hour, When They Are Candidates For Eternity!

Nothing Is More Common Than To Mistake The Sign For The Thing Itself; Nor Is Any Practice More Frequent Than That Of Endeavoring To Acquire The Exterior Mark, Without Once Thinking To Labor After The Interior Grace.