The Person Whose Clothes Are Extremely Fine

All Is Not Gold That Glitters, Pleasure Seems Sweet, But Proves A Glass Of Bitters

Whenever You See A Gaming Table Be Sure To Know Fortune Is Not There. Rather She Is Always In The Company Of Industry.

The Greatest Object In The Universe, Says A Certain Philosopher, Is A Good Man Struggling With Adversity; Yet There Is Still A Greater, Which Is The Good Man Who Comes To Relieve It.

Popular Glory Is A Perfect Coquette; Her Lovers Must Toil, Feel Every Inquietude, Indulge Every Caprice, And Perhaps At Last Be Jilted Into The Bargain. True Glory, On The Other Hand, Resembles A Woman Of Sense; Her Admirers Must Play No Tricks. They Feel No Great Anxiety, For They Are Sure In The End Of Being Rewarded In Proportion To Their Merit.

Her Modest Looks The Cottage Might Adorn, Sweet As The Primrose Peeps Beneath The Thorn.