Every Abridgement Of A Good Book Is

Adrian, The Emperor, Exclaimed Incessantly, When Dying, "that The Crowd Of Physicians Had Killed Him."

Tis The Taste Of Effeminacy That Disrelishes Ordinary And Accustomed Things.

Wise People Are Foolish If They Cannot Adapt To Foolish People.

Oh Senseless Man, Who Cannot Possibly Make A Worm Or A Flea And Yet Will Create Gods By The Dozen!

There Is No Virtue Which Does Not Rejoice A Well-descended Nature; There Is A Kind Of I Know Not What Congratulation In Well-doing, That Gives Us An Inward Satisfaction, And A Certain Generous Boldness That Accompanies A Good Conscience.