Sweet Tastes Have Sour Closes; And He

The Goods We Spend We Keep; And What We Save We Lose; And Only What We Lose We Have.

Of All Vices Take Heed Of Drunkenness; Other Vices Are But Fruits Of Disordered Affections--this Disorders, Nay, Banishes Reason; Other Vices But Impair The Soul--this Demolishes Her Two Chief Faculties, The Understanding And The Will; Other Vices Make Their Own Way--this Makes Way For All Vices; He That Is A Drunkard Is Qualified For All Vice.

God's Pleasure Is At The End Of Our Prayers.

The World's An Inn; And I Her Guest.

Even Such Is Man, Whose Glory Lendshis Life A Blaze Or Two, And Ends.