At Seventy-seven It Is Time To Be

How Small Of All That Human Hearts Endure, That Part Which Laws Or Kings Can Cause Or Cure! Still To Ourselves In Every Place Consigned, Our Own Felicity We Make Or Find. With Secret Course, Which No Loud Storms Annoy, Glides The Smooth Current Of Domestic Joy.

A Man Of Sense And Education Should Meet A Suitable Companion In A Wife. It Is A Miserable Thing When The Conversation Can Only Be Such As Whether The Mutton Should Be Boiled Or Roasted, And Probably A Dispute About That.

The Great End Of Prudence Is To Give Cheerfulness To Those Hours Which Splendour Cannot Gild, And Acclamation Cannot Exhilarate; Those Soft Intervals Of Unbended Amusement, In Which A Man Shrinks To His Natural Dimensions, And Throws Aside The Ornaments Or Disguises Which He Feels In Privacy To Be Useless Incumbrances, And To Lose All Effect When They Become Familiar. To Be Happy At Home Is The Ultimate Result Of All Ambition, The End To Which Every Enterprise And Labour Tends, And Of Which Every Desire Prompts The Prosecution.

He That Accepts Protection, Stipulates Obedience. We Have Always Protected The Americans; We May Therefore Subject Them To Government.

A Lexicographer, A Writer Of Dictionaries, A Harmless Drudge.