Death Comes To All. His Cold And

Tea, Late Dinners And The French Revolution. I Cannot Exactly See The Connection Of Ideas.

The Critic Does His Utmost To Blight Genius In Its Infancy; That Which Rises In Spite Of Him He Will Not See; And Then He Complains Of The Decline Of Literature.

He Kept At True Good Humor's Mark The Social Flow Of Pleasure's Tide: He Never Made A Brow Look Dark, Nor Caused A Tear, But When He Died.

Laughter Ispleasant, Butthe Exertion Istoomuchfor Me.

I Never Failed To Convince An Audience That The Best Thing They Could Do Was To Go Away.