He Who Would Be Singular In His

Virtue Dwells At The Head Of A River, To Which We Cannot Get But By Rowing Against The Stream.

Business Is The Salt Of Life, Which Not Only Gives A Grateful Smack To It, But Dries Up Those Crudities That Would Offend, Preserves From Putrefaction And Drives Off All Those Blowing Flies That Would Corrupt It.

Vice Is A Peripatetic, Always In Progression.

God Has Made No One Absolute.

We Pick Our Own Sorrows Out Of The Joys Of Other Men, And From Their Sorrows Likewise We Derive Our Joys.