None But A Fool Worries About Things

It Is Not Often That Any Man Can Have So Much Knowledge Of Another, As Is Necessary To Make Instruction Useful.

No Man Sympathizes With The Sorrows Of Vanity.

When A Man Knows He Is To Be Hanged In A Fortnight, It Concentrates His Mind Wonderfully.

The Misery Of Man Proceeds Not From Any Single Crush Of Overwhelming Evil, But From Small Vexations Continually Repeated.

Disease Generally Begins That Equality Which Death Completes; The Distinctions Which Set One Man So Much Above Another Are Very Little Perceived In The Gloom Of A Sick Chamber, Where It Will Be Vain To Expect Entertainment From The Gay, Or Instruction From The Wise; Where All Human Glory Is Obliterated, The Wit Is Clouded, The Reasoner Perplexed, And The Hero Subdued; Where The Highest And Brightest Of Mortal Beings Finds Nothing Left Him But The Consciousness Of Innocence.