Few Save The Poor Feel For The

There Is No Wretchedness Like Self-reproach.

No Hour Arrives So Soon As The One We Dread.

In Sad Truth, Half Our Forebodings Of Our Neighbors Are But Our Own Wishes, Which We Are Ashamed To Utter In Any Other Form.

He Who Seeks Pleasure With Reference To Himself, Not Others, Will Ever Find That Pleasure Is Only Another Name For Discontent.

Anticipation Is A Bad Sleeping Draught.