The Fool Is Willing To Pay For

Vanity May Be Likened To The Smooth-skinned And Velvet-footed Mouse, Nibbling About Forever In Expectation Of A Crumb; While Self-esteem Is Too Apt To Take The Likeness Of The Huge Butcher's Dog, Who Carries Off Your Steaks, And Growls At You As Be Goes.

The Amiable Is A Duty Most Certainly, But Must Not Be Exercised At The Expense Of Any Of The Virtues. He Who Seeks To Do The Amiable Always, Can Only Be Successful At The Frequent Expense Of His Manhood.

Vanity Is So Constantly Solicitous Of Self, That Even Where Its Own Claims Are Not Interested, It Indirectly Seeks The Aliment Which It Loves, By Showing How Little Is Deserved By Others.

Our Possessions Are Wholly In Our Performances. He Owns Nothing To Whom The World Owes Nothing.

I Know Not That There Is Anything In Nature More Soothing To The Mind Than The Contemplation Of The Moon, Sailing, Like Some Planetary Bark, Amidst A Sea Of Bright Azure. The Subject Is Certainly Hackneyed; The Moon Has Been Sung By Poet And Poetaster. Is There Any Marvel That It Should Be So?