Detested Sport, That Owes Its Pleasures To

To Follow Foolish Precedents, And Wink With Both Our Eyes, Is Easier Than To Think.

Fancy, Like The Finger Of A Clock, Runs The Great Circuit, And Is Still At Home.

Man Disavows, And Deity Disowns Me: Hell Might Afford My Miseries A Shelter; Therefore Hell Keeps Her Ever-hungry Mouths All Bolted Against Me.

There Is A Mixture Of Evil In Everything We Do; Indulgence Encourages Us To Encroach, While We Crabbe Exercise The Rights Of Children, We Become Childish.

Visits Are Insatiable Devourers Of Time, And Fit Only For Those Who, If They Did Not That, Would Do Nothing.