We Talk On Principal, But Act On

Was Genius Ever Ungrateful? Mere Talents Are Dry Leaves, Tossed Up And Down By Gusts Of Passion, And Scattered And Swept Away; But, Genius Lies On The Bosom Of Memory, And Gratitude At Her Feet.

We Oftener Say Things Because We Can Say Them Well, Than Because They Are Sound And Reasonable.

Every Great Writer Is A Writer Of History, Let Him Treat On Almost What Subject He May.

And Modesty, Who, When She Goes, Is Gone For Ever.

Old Trees In Their Living State Are The Only Things That Money Cannot Command.