The Majority Have No Other Reason For

The Business Of Life Is To Go Forward.

Cruel With Guilt, And Daring With Despair, The Midnight Murderer Bursts The Faithless Bar; Invades The Sacred Hour Of Silent Rest And Leaves, Unseen, A Dagger In Your Breast.

If, Sir, Men Were All Virtuous, I Should With Great Alacrity Teach Them All To Fly. But What Would Be The Security Of The Good If The Bad Could At Pleasure Invade Them From The Sky? Against An Army Sailing Through The Clouds Neither Wall, Nor Mountains, Nor Seas Could Afford Any Security.

It Is Surely Very Narrow Policy That Supposes Money To Be The Chief Good.

The Blaze Of Reputation Cannot Be Blown Out, But It Often Dies In The Socket; A Very Few Names May Be Considered As Perpetual Lamps That Shine Unconsumed.