The Abuse Of Terms Has At All

Indeed, I Have, Alas! Outlived Almost Every One Of My Contemporaries. One Pays Dear For Living Long.

My Retirement Was Now Become Solitude; The Former Is, I Believe, The Best State For The Mind Of Man, The Latter Almost The Worst. In Complete Solitude, The Eye Wants Objects, The Heart Wants Attachments, The Understanding Wants Reciprocation. The Character Loses Its Tenderness When It Has Nothing To Strengthen It, Its Sweetness When It Has Nothing To Soothe It.

He Who Cannot Find Time To Consult His Bible Will One Day Find He Has Time To Be Sick; He Who Has No Time To Pray Must Find Time To Die; He Who Can Find No Time To Reflect Is Most Likely To Find Time To Sin; He Who Cannot Find Time For Repentance Will Find An Eternity In Which Repentance Will Be Of No Avail; He Who Cannot Find Time To Work For Others May Find An Eternity In Which To Suffer For Himself.

Rage Is For Little Wrongs; Despair Is Dumb.

Wisdom Views With An Indifferent Eye All Finite Joys, All Blessings Born To Die.