All Our Talents Increase In The Using,

A Man Must Have Something To Grumble About; And If He Cant Complain That His Wife Harries Him To Death With Her Perversity And Ill-humour, He Must Complain That She Wears Him Out With Her Kindness And Gentleness.

I Thought Mr. Millward Never Would Cease Telling Us That He Was No Tea-drinker, And That It Was Highly Injurious To Keep Loading The Stomach With Slops To The Exclusion Of More Wholesome Sustenance, And So Give Himself Time To Finish His Fourth Cup.

Increase Of Love Brings Increase Of Happiness, When It Is Mutual, And Pure As That Will Be.

I Wished To Tell The Truth, For Truth Always Conveys Its Own Moral To Those Who Are Able To Receive It.

My Cup Of Sweets Is Not Unmingled: It Is Dashed With A Bitterness That I Cannot Hide From Myself, Disguise It As I Will.